


The Second Sanditon Summer of Charlotte Heywood

by apolla



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: A year afterwards, F/M, Sanditon Season 2, The more things change the more they stay the same, trying to get on with life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolla/pseuds/apolla
Summary: In which Charlotte Heywood returns to Sanditon almost a year after her almost-engagement.Much has changed and yet some things remain very much the same.





	1. A Return to Sanditon

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to like Sanditon, I really did. Generally, I thought it wasn't... great? But I wanted to care, and in such situations, I find that fanfic may plug the holes and often does a better job than the original. And when a show gives you a sucky ending you hate? That's what fic is for.
> 
> Anyway, I have no idea where this going. If you've read my stuff in other fandoms you'll know I have nothing like a regular posting schedule... but it seems to be worth the wait.

A kindly, benevolent God would have left Charlotte Heywood to her own devices. A kindly, benevolent God would have let her remain at home, far from Sanditon and the many reminders of a life that was almost - oh so painfully almost - hers.

She knew full well, thanks to Mr Hankins and the Willingden reverend, that God was neither especially kind nor benevolent. God was a harsh master who held each person to account for their sins. After all, God had sent the Flood and the Plagues and turned women to salt for their curiosity.

Still, she had not dreamt that punishment was delivered _before_ death. Charlotte had always imagined such an accounting to come at the end of life when one approached the Gates of Heaven. Not, as was currently unfolding, on the golden sands of Sanditon strand.

She had hoped that a year would be enough time to find her composure; enough time to meet Mary Parker's pitying eyes with a bright smile and sincere assurances that all was well. Almost a year - she was invited to stay with the Parkers at Trafalgar House at the start of the summer season, and she could not decline without offending them - or more dreadfully, sharing with her family the reasons why she would not return to Sanditon.

'We were coming back to the house to greet you,' Mrs Parker told her. 'I am sorry we were not there for you.'

'I arrived early,' Charlotte explained. 'They said you were here, and I decided not to wait. I have missed you all, you see-'

A year was not nearly enough for her to do anything but successfully fight tears that brimmed in her eyes. Mary was clever and kind and said nothing except give a greeting and a warm hug that allowed Charlotte a moment to gather the fraying threads of herself back together.

For all that, the Parker children could not be restrained for long when their dear old friend was so close after so long away.

Charlotte laughed as the three eldest bundled towards her, Henry breaking free of his nurse to bowl unevenly towards her. A year had done wonders for the young lad, but he was not yet on a quite even keel on shifting sands. James, now some twenty months old, did not remember Charlotte and remained to clutch the nurse's hand while wondering who she was to have his whole life turned upside down.

Bending to her knees, Charlotte embraced Alicia and Jenny in turn. It was as though she could breathe freely at last, after so long stifled by misery and the too-close quarters of her Willingden life. No number of letters could compare to seeing them, and Charlotte quickly, tacitly catalogued all the changes in them since their last meeting. 

'I am so, so glad to see you all again! How you have grown and-'

Henry had grown quite tired of waiting to be greeted and decided to make his feelings more clearly known. With all the power in his little legs, he leapt from the sand from his feet and clung firmly onto Charlotte's shoulders.

Miss Heywood, not expecting any such motion and already quite unbalanced, was not prepared for it. While Henry's mother and nurse were both quick to intervene, the force of the boy's leap could not be denied. In a flash, Henry, his siblings and Miss Heywood toppled onto the soft sand. 

Charlotte was quite winded by the unexpected sequence of events and allowed herself a moment to lie quite still, even with Alicia's knee digging into her back and Jenny's elbow in her ribs. Henry, now quite put out by the fall and not terribly soft landing atop his sisters, wriggled to get away. This earned him nothing but scoldings from Alicia and Jenny, who fiercely objected to his feet on their persons. 

A pair of hands plucked Henry from the pile and set him on his feet with a ruffle of golden hair that quieted his upset. From where she lay, Charlotte could only see a pair of black-clad legs, but it was not difficult to ascertain to whom they belonged.

The owner of the legs spoke and removed all doubt. 'Really, Henry. It isn't gentlemanly to fling yourself at a young lady.'

Charlotte closed her eyes and willed herself at that moment to become invisible or somehow travel back to Willingden in an instant. The voice was just as she remembered and as she had dreamt it: equal parts serious and sardonic. 

Sidney Parker. Of course it was. _Of course. _God was not kind, and God was not benevolent.

'Tisn't a young lady!' Henry protested, legs kicking. 'It's Charlotte!'

Sidney made sure he had Henry's full attention before speaking: 'Miss Heywood is absolutely a young lady and deserving of respect and consideration.'

The girls scrambled up to their feet, but before they could assist, Sidney had released Henry and grasped both of Charlotte's hands in his own so he might assist. She was sincerely glad for her gloves - the warmth was disturbing enough without feeling his bare skin on hers.

Sidney released her the moment she was stood safely on her own two feet and turned his gaze to a point somewhere behind her head. 'Good morning, Miss Heywood. I trust your journey was uneventfully pleasant?'

It was said as if they had not come within a hairsbreadth of engagement, as if they had not been rent asunder by fate and a foolish lack of insurance, as if they had not been apart for a year.

'Good morning, Mr Parker. Yes, it was.'

Charlotte tried not to consider how healthy and vital he seemed, how tanned he was, how he had flourished while she had certainly withered. She kept her gaze low to the ground, so she might avoid seeing or being seen. Instead, she concentrated on trying to brush sand off her dress.

A stilted conversation of such minuscule importance was excruciating but superior to a more intimate one that would only increase her pain more.

They were both spared any further distress at that moment as Tom Parker barrelled into the scene with his usual energy: 'Ah, Charlotte, my dear! How lovely to see you at long last! We have all missed you very much this past year! How well you look. Does she not look very well, Sidney?'

It must be said that Henry was very much like his father, but that Mr Parker had at least grown out of the habit of knocking young ladies to the floor. Like Henry, Tom Parker would not be ignored. 

'Does she not, Sidney?' he asked, looking between the two of them as though nothing complicated had ever passed between them.

Sidney was obliged to make a show of considering Miss Heywood and finally replied: 'Yes, very well. I am sure we are all happy to have Miss Heywood back in Sanditon.'

'We are indeed, we are! And Charlotte, just wait until you see Waterloo Terrace. It is very much better than it was before, and the first new tenants moved in just this very week.'

'I am so delighted to hear it,' she replied, eyes firmly on Tom. 'The men must have worked very hard to complete the works. How is Mr Stringer?'

As she was looking so firmly at her friend, Charlotte entirely missed the flash of anger that swept across Sidney's face before he schooled himself into proper regulation. 

'Ah, Mr Stringer left for his apprenticeship,' Tom told her. 'But we had the plans and a good foreman to guide the men before our new man arrived. From Bath, you know. A charming town, you know. You'll like the new additions to our beloved Sanditon, I am sure.'

Charlotte had glimpsed some of the changes already. Waterloo Terrace was rebuilt much as it had been, but another street was under construction that seemed twice as high and three times as long, curving down towards the sea in a long, elegant arc of Portland stone. A little too large and imposing for a small town like Sanditon, she thought, but nobody had asked her opinion, so she did not share it.

No doubt her feelings were coloured with the knowledge of where the funds to build this new street had come from. She had very little real information about Eliza Campion's character, but she could not help attaching mean-spirited motives thanks to her own bitter jealousy.

'How is your wife, Mr Parker?' she asked Sidney, glad for the witness that Tom provided for this conversation, ensuring it could not be more profound than the most pleasantly shallow of pleasantries.

'I am not married, Miss Heywood.'

'No? You are engaged to Mrs-'

Tom, at that very moment, chased after Henry and little James as they played, leaving Sidney and Charlotte quite alone.

'I was obliged to travel to the estates in Antigua and further abroad. I did not wish to-' he paused and swallowed slowly. 'I did not feel it fair to travel so far and risk leaving her a widow. I returned only recently and...' 

Charlotte's thoughts were not immediately of herself: 'Antigua? I thought you said you-'

'We freed our slaves,' he said, guessing at the direction of her thoughts quite correctly. 'Other landowners had not taken kindly to how the estate was now run. I was obliged to travel there to resolve matters myself.'

'And did you? Resolve matters?'

'Not to my complete satisfaction. A number of our sheds went on fire,' Sidney looked on the verge of further detail but looked around and remembered himself. 'This is not fit conversation for a fine day such as this. I will tell you later.'

'And there I thought you were going to tell me it was not fit conversation for a young lady.'

Sidney's right eyebrow rose in a way Charlotte had forced herself to forget. 'Miss Heywood, I can think of only a few topics upon which you could not bring your unique perspective to bear.'

'Unique perspective, Mr Parker?' Charlotte's heart sped up a little, as it always had when they traded verbal shots, even when she did not like him at all. 'What a diplomatic phrasing. How very unlike you.'

'I have been practising, you see.' There! Very decidedly, if only for a brief moment, there was a smile upon Sidney Parker's mouth. 'There's very little entertainment on the long journey to the West Indies.'

'Sidney, Charlotte!' Mary's voice called above the waves, the shouting children and their own thoughts. 'We are returning to the house now.'

Sidney immediately offered his arm to Charlotte, who froze. He scowled and looked down at his feet a moment.

'Forgive me. I did not think. But...' He sighed and repeated the gesture. 'We can meet as friends, can we not?'

She took his arm. 'As the choice we have is to meet as friends or strangers, we are friends. Always friends, Mr Parker.'

He replied by tucking her arm a little closer than quite proper. 'I am relieved, Miss Heywood. I have... I have missed you.'

'Well, I cannot say I have missed how you so frequently looked upon me with thinly veiled contempt, nor-'

'It was not...' he muttered, '...contempt, Charlotte.'

'I am certain it was, at least in the beginnings of our acquaintance. You were not kind, sir!'

'Perhaps not,' he conceded as they navigated the threshold between beach and path. Ahead lay the town of Sanditon and all it held for them. 'I was not gentlemanly.'

'And I spoke quite out of turn, and I cannot say why, even now. I suppose you have always brought out the very worst in me. And... the very best, too.'

A brief nod was his only acknowledgement, and as they reached the busier parts of town, he relinquished his grasp on her.

'Is... is your fiancee here too? Mary did not mention other guests.'

'No. She is still in London for the time being. She will come down in time for the first ball of the season, I understand.'

'You do not... that is to say... I mean...' She sighed and let go of his arm as they reached Trafalgar House. 'You do not seem happy, Sidney.'

Sidney did not reply at first, choosing instead to look around the street. 'I am very glad that I could help my brother and Sanditon. I am glad that the terrace is finished again and that the town is flourishing. I am glad my family is well. That is more than enough for me, Miss Heywood.'

He beckoned for her to enter the house ahead of him, and she was not inclined to fight this closing of the topic. Only for now, for the middle of the street was no place for such a conversation. Later, perhaps. They had always been best sharing their truer feelings late in the evening when the rest of the world slumbered peacefully.


	2. A First Morning, A First Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the super comments so far - I always appreciate that notification email!
> 
> I cannot promise this kind of daily or near-daily posting but for as long as I have something like momentum, I'll try to keep it up.

Lying in crisp sheets in the soft bed of her room at Trafalgar House, Charlotte slept deeply that night. The fresh sea air had a pleasingly soporific effect, and whether she wanted to steal away to Tom's study (and its little library) or not, she slept until the sun was risen on the next morning.

She had been all too aware of Sidney's proximity as she readied herself for bed. Despite her very best efforts, she could not help wondering what this summer might be like had he been able to make his proposal as once intended.

They would be married by now, and either guests of the Thos. Parkers or in a household of their own. She would not need to think of creeping downstairs in hopes of having a meaningful conversation. She would simply have to turn in bed and- she would not think more of that. 

The next morning she awoke to golden sun streaming through her windows and Mary's young lady's maid setting out a gown for her.

'Good morning, Miss Heywood. The mistress asked me to look in and make sure you had all you need.'

Charlotte yawned and stretched in bed, taking a moment to appreciate the relative quiet of a house with four children compared to a household of fifteen. 'Good morning, Atkins. I will wash up before I dress this morning.'

'There's fresh water on the stand, Miss. I'll return to help you dress shortly.'

'No need, but I will appreciate help with my hair if Mary can spare you.'

'Of course, Miss.'

Charlotte took her time that morning. It was only as she re-did the ribbons on her jacket a third time that it occurred to her - with no small measure of chagrin - that she was putting off the inevitable. Her stomach rumbled a warning that no man should stop her from breaking her fast.

Downstairs she found that Mr and Mrs Parker had already eaten - Tom was gone out already, and Mary was in the study with several large ledgers - leaving the breakfast table for Charlotte's singular use.

She was halfway through a small plate of kedgeree when Sidney entered, looking very much worse for wear. His valet was clearly nowhere to be found for he was unshaven, unkempt and bleary-eyed.

He straightened up at sight of her. 'Miss Heywood.'

'Good morning, Mr Parker. You appear... out of sorts. I do hope you are well.'

'I am tolerably well, thank you.' This was a poorly presented lie that she allowed to pass as he prepared a plate for himself and stumbled into a chair as far from her as the furniture would allow.

'Did you sleep well, Mr Parker?'

'I have not slept at all, in truth.'

'Oh?'

'I was not... at home.'

'Oh. _ Oh_, I see. Well-'

'Do not misunderstand me, Miss Heywood. I stopped in at the Denham Arms last evening for a brief time, but I have spent much of the night walking. I am not-' he coughed and looked away 'I do not frequent such establishments as you may believe.'

Charlotte could not but think of the sickly-sweet aroma of the supposed boarding house at which he had received such a warm welcome during their pursuit of Georgiana and her kidnappers.

'It is not my business where you spend your time, Mr Parker,' she replied after an awkward silence. 'But I do not like to see you so disconcerted.'

'No, indeed.' He took a mouthful of food and so put their conversation on hold.

'How is Georgiana?'

'She is well, I believe. I have not seen her in some time. I set her up in a household in Hertfordshire, a much quieter parish, and since then- I do not believe I would be a welcome face.'

'You are wrong! She needs you. Hertfordshire? What is there to do in Hertfordshire except mull upon the past?'

'She has, I am told, been reading excessively and spending a good deal of time at the pianoforte while she waits out the final year of her minority. She writes from time to time to regale me with the many shortcomings of England and myself.' He cracked the merest smile. 'I enjoy her letters very much.'

'Perhaps she could be persuaded to return to Sanditon for the summer? I would like so very much to see her again. Although I would understand if you felt me an improper companion to her.'

'I could not think so, Charlotte. Miss Heywood. Even when you make outrageous errors of judgement, your heart is in the right place.'

'A heart in the right place does not protect a person from harm, Mr Parker. I learnt that the hard way.' She set her fork down on the plate of half-eaten eggs. 'I hope I am a better person than I was a year ago.'

'We should all wish to be better than we were a year ago. I will write to Georgiana and ask her thoughts on the matter. If she wishes to come, I will arrange it.'

'And... and Mrs Campion? Is she to visit Sanditon?' 

At Charlotte's question, an expression of pain swept across Sidney's face that she feared was reflected in her own. Still, the question needed to be asked and needed an answer.

He cleared his throat again and stared in the general direction of the windows without appearing to see very much at all. 'She is to arrive in a fortnight. She wanted to wait until the London Season has concluded. Your Lady Susan is also to come, I hear.'

'She wrote to me last week and confirmed it. I will be so happy to see her again. I visited her in London at Easter, you know. London!'

'What did you think of that great city?' he asked, attention now fully back to her and quite sincerely interested in her thoughts. 

'Busy. So many people and all so very_ busy_! Yet also... a place of infinite variety and diversion! Lady Susan and I visited Hatchard's bookshop, and I thought I would get lost - so very many books. The smell was so overwhelming at times that I longed for the fresh air of Sanditon and-' A deep blush rose up Charlotte's face. 'You are far more familiar with London than I and I need not bore you-'

'You do not bore me,' he interrupted. 'I am curious to hear about your adventures. What else did you do?'

'We visited the theatre, which was delightful, and Ranelagh Gardens, which Lady Susan says is much reduced since the Rotunda was pulled down.' Charlotte chattered on about her visit with Lady Susan for some time, during which Sidney leaned back in his seat and fixed her with an amused, affectionate gaze that was surely that of a friend.

'Then... I went home again,' she finished.

'How is your family?' he asked. 'I hope your mother and father are in good health.'

'They are, thank you. My eldest brother was lately married at Christmas, and they are expecting their first child. He and my new sister are very well suited, and my father has begun to pass his duties to William. I am glad - he works so hard.'

'I wish them well.' The words were rote, but there was a firm sincerity behind them. 'I am glad they have found their happiness.'

'I find that there is a great comfort to be found in the happiness of others.' She sipped at her tea. 'What are your plans for the day, Mr Parker?'

'First, I must make myself presentable.'

'I am shocked you did not do so before coming to breakfast.'

'Had I known I would not eat alone, I should surely have done so.' He stood then and bowed to her. 'Good morning, Miss Heywood.'

'Good morning.'

Charlotte did not tarry in the breakfast room then and sought out Mary. Mrs Parker was at Mr Thomas Parker's desk, entirely surrounded by ledgers, papers and other paraphernalia associated with accounts. These were not merely the household accounts - there was too much.

Mary was so engrossed that Charlotte walked into the room and was all but stood over her before asking, 'May I help?' 

'Oh, Charlotte, good morning! Did you sleep well?'

'Very well, thank you. You look quite overwhelmed.'

'Since the fire, I have taken overall responsibility for Tom's accounting. I cannot-' Mary took a deep breath. 'In all honesty, Charlotte, I find I rest easier knowing that the accounts are in good order; that I know where every penny is going for both our household and the business of Sanditon.'

Mary, Charlotte observed now, looked tired and a little drawn in the face. 

'May I help?' she repeated.

'I would be glad of it.'

Mary and Charlotte passed the morning companionably working through the Parker accounts. Mary had done an excellent job of wrangling their finances into order, and as Charlotte checked sums and figures, she could not help notice that the house was significantly lacking in the fuss and finery that it had previously possessed.

'What happened to the Chinese cabinet, Mary?' she asked, at last, having formulated a dozen ways of asking without asking. 

Mary sighed. 'We decided to sell several less-than-necessary items.'

'We?'

'Tom had very little say in the matter, if I may be blunt. I shall not see my family so close to ruin again. When I think of what Sidney had to-' Mary grasped Charlotte's hand. 'I am not insensible to the sacrifice he made, and so the very great loss to you. I saw... I saw what was between you and what almost came to pass and I am sorry, most sorry...'

Charlotte squeezed her friend's hand and forced herself to look more cheerful than she felt. 'You must not apologise to me for matters out of your control.'

'I ought to have known! Tom is _Tom_, and I ought to have known that he would make such errors of judgement while reaching for his dream. Well, _never again_. And as for Eliza Campion!' Mary all but spat the name. 'I would rather sell the house than rely on her.'

'Is she really so bad? I cannot imagine any woman so beloved of Sidney could be so.'

'I cannot say what Eliza was like when they were promised to each other, but I do not like the way she seems to hold the money over him. Over us. We are to be properly grateful for every penny, you see. Never mind that it is an investment, and she will see her investment returned five-fold.'

'That much?'

'Oh, yes. Every house in the terrace is let for the duration. Between them, Lady Susan and Eliza have seen to that. Sanditon is _fashionable. _'

'That is gratifying after... everything.'

'Tom is out now, meeting with his architect about the building of a theatre. It never ends, and I don't suppose it will. Now, at least, I can exercise some good regulation over his grand schemes. We must hope and pray that Sanditon remains in fashion for as long as they last.'

Mary set down her pen and rubbed her eyes. 'I am glad you are here, Charlotte. I have felt... quite alone since you returned to Willingden.'

'After all that I experienced here, I found Willingden was small. And in its way, lonely. I could not speak of..._ matters_ with them.'

'All will be well,' Mary said, mouth set in a firm, determined line. 'I do not know how, but I know it will be.'

Charlotte found that she could not agree but also wished Mary to be correct, so she said nothing and returned to her columns and figures.

*

The first week of Charlotte's stay in Sanditon passed quietly. The majority of summer visitors were yet to arrive, and she spent most of her time reacquainting herself with the town.

A series of small streets of workers' housing had been built - in a rush - and the longest of these was named Stringer Street in memory of the stonemason. Charlotte wandered through this quarter only briefly, finding it rough and too reminiscent of the parts of London in which she had searched for Georgiana and had been herself set upon.

She was also subject to some curious stares, and it soon became apparent that Sanditon had played witness to her non-engagement, and now that both she and Sidney were in the vicinity, the people watched with ill-disguised interest.

In truth, she saw Sidney very rarely in that week after that first breakfast. He seemed always to be on his way out of the house or passing by or being newly-arrived as she was leaving, or deep in business matters from which she would not disturb him.

It was frustrating yet also a relief. If she had little immediate contact with him, he could not confound her further.

For the first week, this was the case. On Charlotte's eighth day back, heavy black rainclouds settled above the town, and on the ninth day, rain began to fall in steady, unyielding sheets, keeping the residents and guests of Trafalgar House indoors for three days. 

*


	3. Summer Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the super comments so far! Thought I should post this now while I've got it - please don't depend on such frequent posting as I cannot promise it will continue.

Rain fell in thick sheets of unrelenting water such that no man, woman or child would leave the comfort and warmth of their shelter for any but the most serious of reasons.

Charlotte had not previously even been certain that Sidney was within the house but now that they were, for all intents and purposes, trapped together, it was hard to miss the other as they moved about the place.

The children were not at all happy to be confined and were not as charming and delightful as they usually were. Rambunctious Henry was in particular poor humour and Charlotte strove to keep him amused. 

She succeeded in keeping him diverted with a set of playing cards for much of the morning but, as the day wore on, he grew more and more frustrated and cooped-up. 

'Come along, Henry. It's time to eat.'

He plopped himself down on the thick sitting room carpet, crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his chin out. 'Don't want to!'

'Well, you can come with me, or you can wait for Nurse to collect you.'

'No!' At this point, he flung himself down onto the carpet, kicking his stockinged feet at the floor. 

'Or,' came a third voice from the doorway. 'You'll come with me.'

No doubt Sidney meant this as a threat of sorts in order to gain compliance, but Henry did not take it as such. Instead, he rolled over and up onto his feet and ran at his uncle.

'Uncle Siddy! Play a game with me!'

Sidney scooped the lad into his arms as easily as he would a much smaller infant. 'You heard Miss Heywood. You must eat.'

'Don't want to!'

'Whyever not?'

'Don't want to.'

'Ah, I see.' Sidney threw Charlotte an amused glance. 'Well, I am going down to the kitchen, and I am sure you will have changed your mind by the time we arrive.'

Charlotte followed behind and found that Sidney was quite correct: at sight of a plate laden with Henry's favourites, the boy scrambled into a chair and had to be scolded by Nurse into waiting for his sisters and _have you washed your hands, young master? _

Sidney moved to retreat back into the main part of the house but paused. 'Are you eating with the children, Miss Heywood?'

She shook her head. 'No. Nurse says I am a bad influence and distract them from proper manners.'

'She said the same to me. Come along, then.'

After a week quite ignored by him - or so it seemed - his solicitous approach took Charlotte by surprise, but she allowed him to lead her through the house to Mary's small sitting room. A fresh tea set was waiting on the little table by the window.

'Mary will be down shortly,' he explained. 'James is not enjoying the weather; it seems.'

'My youngest brother is always miserable during storms.'

They settled down with a grey and obscured view of the sea through the windows. 

'I have not seen much of you these last few days, Mr Parker.'

He rolled his eyes. 'Can I not be Sidney? Are we not friends?'

'We are. I have not seen much of you, _Sidney_. Are you well?'

'Busy. I have been helping Tom with some Sanditon matters, and I have been kept busy with my own business.'

'I still don't really know what it is you do.'

'Oh, many things. Trade in sugar from Antigua of course, but in these uncertain times I have moved into other concerns. All very dull and I am sure to bore you.'

'You do not bore me.' As the words left her mouth, Charlotte recollected that he had said something very similar when she spoke of London.

Sidney surely recalled, for he smiled and continued to explain, in detail sufficient that Charlotte felt the compliment of being trusted to understand the various topics upon which he touched until he had quite fully explained his not-insignificant business dealings.

'No wonder you are so busy, and all before considering Sanditon and Georgiana.'

'It is not so tiresome. I have a steward in Antigua I can trust, and many of my other smaller concerns require very little in the way of direction from myself. I am fortunate, I acknowledge.'

'And Mrs Campion's estate is extensive, I hear. That must also keep you busy.'

'She has her steward for that. I do not meddle in her affairs.'

Charlotte did not think before replying: 'That does not seem like the foundation of a successful partnership.'

Sidney swirled his delicate silver teaspoon in his milky tea and looked into the whirlpool created rather than at her. 'No, it does not.'

Rain battered the window, punctuating every moment of silence between them.

'I spoke out of turn, I apologise.'

'If I cannot speak of these things with you, I cannot speak of them with anyone, and I think I must.'

'For that, I am sorry,' she said. 'But it is not kind for me to speak of your betrothed so. And it is painful for me to hear you agree.'

Silence then, for there was nothing good to say. Still, they knew each other well enough to know at least the general direction of the other's thoughts.

'Does Mrs Campion know I am here?' Charlotte asked after a moment. 'I felt that she understood that I felt- that I held certain feelings towards you.'

'She certainly knew of my... certain feelings. She would not have been unkind to you otherwise. She is not naturally meanspirited, but she has always felt strongly about things that belong to her.'

'You do not belong to her! People are not _property! _'

'You have been reading the abolitionists again.'

'Yes, I have! Mock me if you must.'

'I cannot.'

'Does she know?'

Sidney shrugged, turning his attention to a drop of water rolling slowly but surely down the windowpane. 'I did not feel it my place to inform her of the finer details of my brother's houseguests. Mary may have told her; I know she writes to Eliza from time to time.'

'You must be honest, Sidney. It will be far worse for her to arrive and find me here without warning. It is not kind.'

'You are uncommonly concerned about kindness towards someone who has quite decidedly interfered with your life.'

'That is not fair-'

'She could have invested without a betrothal, Charlotte. There were many things she could have done. She obliged me to make an offer. I would not have done so if... if there was another choice. She did not have to affiance herself to someone she knows does not love her.'

'You did once.'

'I was nineteen and quite foolish enough to provide Sanditon with its very own village jester. Whatever feelings I may have harboured for her, they soured long ago when she chose fortune and position over what I believed then was love.'

'And now?'

'I was very young, and she was undoubtedly beautiful. We knew each other... and now, I feel that it was the shallowest kind of love, based less on shared ideals and thoughts and more on the lustre of her hair and the batting of her eyelashes.'

'You sound bitter, Sidney. That cannot be good for your future happiness.'

He leaned in then, closer than he had been since... since their parting before. 'I have no real hope for future happiness, Charlotte. I am resigned to doing my duty. There is but one person who holds power over my happiness. I am looking at her this very moment.'

A hard lump formed in her throat. 'That is unfair. You cannot place such responsibility on my shoulders.'

'I do not- I would never-' He reached out and grasped her hands in his own. Her skin all but burned at his touch, so hot that she shivered. 

Charlotte stood then, finding the conversation had moved to a much too painful place. 'I cannot... you cannot say such things to me when you may not act upon them.'

'I only wish to speak the truth to you, Char-'

She wrenched herself away from him. 'You are very fond of making grand statements but much less of following them with action!' Charlotte's voice rose in both pitch and volume with each word, and she sank onto her knees, all strength entirely gone from her legs. 'Why did you not propose on the cliffs? Or even before? Why did you wait? Why did you let me dance with _every man but you _at the Midsummer Ball? Why did you _wait_?'

'Because a proposal of that sort, Miss Heywood, would be looked upon with suspicion and I would not have _your_ good name tarnished in any way! Because I was determined not to be subject to my own worst selfishness and jealousy! Because... because I am a fool, Charlotte. There is no other answer. There is no aspect of the situation I can think of with anything less than disgust. Except that I helped my brother avoid debtors' prison. I am glad for that, even if it tied me forever to a woman I do not love and have not loved except as fiction for eleven full years!'

Fat, heavy tears rolled down his face as he fell to his knees to meet her on the floor. 'Forgive me, Charlotte.'

'You are always asking for forgiveness,' she wept. 'I would so much rather you stopped causing such pain. But you cannot. It is not in your nature, and even if you could, you are _still engaged.' _

The door to the sitting room opened, admitting Mary Parker, her expression one of equal parts concern and horror. 

'Whatever is the matter- oh!'

Sidney leapt to his feet and dashed away the inconvenient tears from his eyes. 'I apologise Mary.'

She fixed him with a firm glare. 'You may not upset my dear friend so, Sidney. And you must not raise your voices in a house where servants may gossip. We had enough of that last year.'

'Gossip?' he asked, confused out of his upset. He held a hand out to Charlotte, who allowed him to assist her to her feet.

'Lord, but you can be so thick sometimes! Most of Sanditon expected you to make an offer for Charlotte. Anyone with the slightest bit of sense could see! It is fortunate no real harm arose before you left for London and returned with a different betrothed.'

A deep flush rose up from beneath Sidney's cravat and into his face. 'I had not realised I was so obvious in my feelings.'

'You were not,' Mary replied. 'Until you came back from fetching Georgiana. Indeed, in much of the country, your travelling alone with Charlotte would've quite ruined her reputation.'

'Now,' Charlotte sniffled. Sidney offered his handkerchief instinctively, and she accepted. 'You must not blame Sidney for _that_. I was the one who rushed off to London alone.'

'I do not _blame _anyone. But you must consider what people here know and think they know. I will not tell you to keep doors open or find suitable chaperones when you are alone, but you must be more considerate of appearances. Not for your sake, Sidney, but for Charlotte's.'

He nodded once, curtly. He bowed to them both. 'I beg your pardon. I shall... leave you to your tea.'

Sidney strode from the room. At Mary's kind concern, writ large upon her face, Charlotte dissolved into tears once more. Mrs Parker folded her into a warm embrace and led her to the small settee.

'I... I am sorry, Mary! I was determined to- I did not wish to bring any stain upon your household. I really thought-'

'There was no real harm done in that regard,' Mary stroked her hair. 'I only counsel caution for your sake. He is impetuous sometimes, and I do not wish to see you hurt more than you already have been.'

'We are both of us impetuous.'

'Oh, indeed!' Mary laughed. 'You make such a pair.'

'Does Mrs Campion know I am here?' Charlotte sniffled, dabbing at her nose with the handkerchief that smelt so much of Sidney.

'I wrote to her that we could not accommodate her here as you are staying with us. She wrote back that she had secured one of the nicest Waterloo Terrace apartments for herself. That it was not proper, in any case, to stay under the same roof as her fiancé.'

Charlotte appreciated the stinging note Mary wrung from that final world. 'I will do my best to meet her with equanimity and ease, Mary. And if I cannot, I will return home-'

'You will not. You are ours for summer and I shall not relinquish you. Better for Mrs Campion to leave if she is unhappy.'

'I do not see that she will give up so easily.'

'Nor will we, sweet Charlotte. I have arranged for the dressmaker to visit tomorrow. I know you brought gowns but I am determined that you will shine as Sanditon's brightest jewel this season.'

'Oh, you must not-'

'I will. You are Sanditon's brightest jewel. Did you not help Tom save the town half a dozen times last year? This year, we will help you. If we also happen to show Sidney what his impetuous decision lost him; and Mrs Campion what she has kept him from... so much the better.;

'Thank you, Mary... although when you talk about Sanditon's brightest jewel...'

'Yes?'

'You sound very much like Tom!'

Ringing laughter rose up from the room. A fragile good humour was restored to the house as the rain continued to fall.


	4. A Ball Is Held

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments so far - really appreciated!
> 
> Also, I'm trying *really hard* not to demonise anyone. I don't think any of the characters involved are altogether evil or mean or whatever. Esther Denham is surely proof of that. If you want Eliza Campion to be the devil, you may be disappointed. That said, it doesn't follow that she is altogether good. On the show, if she knew that Sidney was in love with someone else, it is surely an act of selfishness or cruelty to attach herself to him. Selfishness is perhaps understandable - we do not know what happened to cause her to break her engagement to him before. It is not, after all, exactly out of the realms of possibility that great pressure was placed upon her very young self by those in positions of power over her (a parent, perhaps, or guardian) to marry 'better' than him.
> 
> So, we shall see. For now, Charlotte is doing her best to treat everyone with kindness. Let's see how it goes.

Providing an accurate description regarding the atmosphere around the Parker family dining table that evening is a task fit to stymie even the most accomplished journalist or diarist, featuring as it did so many extreme and contradictory emotions bound up in each person.

Mary and Charlotte had passed the rest of the day quietly: embroidery and other more everyday needlework for the former and reading for the latter, with an enjoyable interlude with the children before their earlier meal. 

Miss Heywood's emotional state was still fragile and tumultuous. She felt a deal better for having spoken frankly to Mr Parker and for Mary's continued faith in her. Yet, she felt sick to her stomach to think of Sanditon's gossip, and fearful at what might arise in the course of this summer.

She expected that Mr Parker would beg off dining with them that evening, as he had most previous evenings, but there he was with Tom. He did not look happy to be there, but to his credit, he met her steady gaze long enough to greet her and make some slight remark about how well she looked.

'Country life suits our Charlotte, I think!' Tom boomed. 'Yet, there is nothing like Sanditon sea air to bring a bloom to the cheeks. I was saying to Sidney that we really ought to do more to promote the very great benefits to one's health that Sanditon-'

Mary arrived at that moment. 'Tom, dear. No business at dinner.'

'Of course, my dear. I apologise. But Sidney and I were caught up in discussions about the establishment of a gentleman's club - so much so that he quite forgot a dinner engagement with a friend.'

Sidney's demeanour instead indicated to Charlotte that he had  _ not _ forgotten but had been obliged to remain listening to Tom without an opportunity to leave.

'Well,' said Mary, barely casting a look between her brother-in-law and her friend, 'I am delighted you are to eat with us this evening, Sidney. I worry you do not eat as much as you should.'

'I am glad to have you mothering me, Mary. It has been a long time since anyone fussed over me in such a fashion.'

Their dinner was informal by their own measure and downright casual by society standards. Their conversation was light, although it was all Mary could do to steer Tom away from Sanditon topics. 

There was one such subject he brought up that piqued curiosity around the table: 'Lord Babington has said he wishes to establish a subscription library within the town!'

'That,' Sidney said, almost from inside his wine glass, 'does not sound like the Babington I know.'

'He wishes to put his family's library to good use and said, I quote, that there is precious little to do in Sanditon when it rains. As we have seen these past few days.'

'I think it is an excellent idea,' Charlotte said. 'Will anyone be able to subscribe?'

'I should think so,' Tom replied, quite regardless of actual fact. 'A library! How fine for our little town.'

'I will be its first subscriber,' Charlotte promised. 'I have not seen the Babingtons since I returned. Are they well?'

'They are much as they have ever been,' said Mary. 'They have established themselves at Sanditon House with Lady Denham.'

'A little too close for comfort, I would think,' Sidney remarked, eyebrow raised. 

'She has been calmer, more considerate this year,' Mary told them. 'Once the situation with Esther was resolved and the other... business... resolved, she has less to tax her patience. Esther was happy to remain, and Lord Babington will always do what Esther wants.'

'He does not enjoy his family estate,' Sidney said. 'It holds less than pleasant memories for him. I am glad he is situated well.'

'We will call on Lady Denham once the weather is improved.' Mary beckoned the staff forward to clear their plates away. 'And you will see for yourself, Charlotte.'

There was no separation of the sexes after dining, but Sidney did not remain. 

'I must... there are matters to which I must attend. Goodnight, ladies, Tom.'

They had hardly a moment to return his good wishes before he was gone, up the stairs to his room. Charlotte was halfway through a chapter of her latest novel when she saw him come back down the stairs, don a thick coat and head out into the night.

Tom and Mary also noticed.

'I wonder what has my brother so mixed up,' said Tom. 'I thought once he and Eliza Campion had found a resolution that his good humour would be restored, but I'm dashed if he doesn't appear even worse at times.'

Mary rolled her eyes. 'He did not propose to Mrs Campion out of affection, but to protect and save this family. It can hardly surprise you that he has much on his mind.'

'Not out of affection?' Tom scoffed and, Charlotte observed, this seemed to be a recurring conversation between them. 'As I have said before, Mary, Eliza was his dearest love until she-'

At this point, Mrs Parker was obliged to interject: 'Yes, until she broke their engagement! I was there, Tom. I remember how devastated our poor Sidney was then. I saw him turn his tender heart to stone and how he acted in such destructive ways. I beg you to be more considerate of what he sacrificed to save our fortunes.'

'Sacrifice?' Tom laughed. 'I cannot make you out at all, Mary. What sacrifice is there in marrying a rich woman, who happens to be the woman he has loved for-'

'Tom!'

Charlotte stood, unable to listen a moment longer. It did not signify that she knew him to be entirely incorrect, did not matter that she knew Sidney loved  _ her _ . She could not bear to hear Tom speak of his brother's future in such warm and glowing terms. 'I find myself suddenly very tired. I hope you will excuse me.'

'Of course,' Mary stood to kiss her cheek. 'Sleep well.'

Charlotte left as swiftly as could be, but not before hearing Mary scold Tom for his thoughtless words and his baffled response. She held her tears back for as long as could be, but they were already rolling down her face before she reached her room. Mercifully, nobody was about to witness this lapse in decorum. She readied herself for bed with blank-minded efficiency and curled up under the covers, shivering from the effort of holding herself together. 

As her eyes grew heavy, she prayed that, in dreaming, she might find some respite from her current situation.

*

Charlotte had been in Sanditon for over a week and so far had not been called upon to visit with Lady Denham. This was in part due to the inclement weather and in part Lady Denham's health.

Once the weather was bright and sunny, a note came from Sanditon House to invite Mrs Parker and Miss Heywood to tea with that formidable lady and her niece, Lady Babington. So, the ladies of Trafalgar House prepared themselves and took a walk along the coast. 

'I am sorry about Tom,' Mary said once they were well away from the town and with nothing but the wild beauty of the sea to bother them.

'You do not need to apologise for him. He means no harm, and I know he only wants to see his brother happy.'

'I would not see you hurt for the world,' Mary replied, squeezing Mary's arm fondly. 'I tried to explain a little last night, but I am not sure he heard me. Foolish man.'

'He means no harm,' Charlotte repeated.

Mary's expression hardened. 'He may not mean harm, but it does not follow that he does not  _ cause _ it. I love my husband, Charlotte, but I am not insensible to his significant faults. I know that this mess is truly of his making. To scrimp on insurance, of all things!'

'I think,' said Charlotte, 'that Tom is such a naturally optimistic man that he cannot properly gauge risk. He cannot truly conceive of matters going wrong, so he does not guard against it.'

'You are more charitable than I have felt this past year,' Mary admitted. 'Sometimes, I feel I would reach across the dining table and strangle him for his recklessness.'

'All is well now, though?' Charlotte asked. 'The terrace is rebuilt, and tenants are found for all but one or two apartments?'

'Yes. He has spun the tale into one of a phoenix rising from the ashes. As if a man did not die and lives were not ruined.'

'Nobody was ruined,' Charlotte reassured her, although the strength of conviction was missing. 

Mary made no reply then, and the rest of the walk to Sanditon House was undertaken in companionable (if sad) silence.

*

Sanditon House was much as Charlotte remembered it, if a good deal lighter.

Lady Denham was in her usual chair in her sitting room, very much the dowager queen of her particular realm, but there was a softness to her mien that was unfamiliar. 'Ah! Miss Heywood, it is a pleasure to see you again.'

Charlotte bobbed a small curtsey of greeting. 'The feeling is mutual, Lady Denham. You look very well.'

'Come, sit yourselves down. Esther will be along shortly. I want to hear all about your doings back in your village since you have been gone, Miss Heywood. Wellington, is it?'

'Willingden.'

'Of course,' Lady Denham cared very little for the minute details. 'Your large family is well, I take it?

'Yes, indeed.' Charlotte began sketching the past year, in such detail as Lady Denham would actually care for, including the news of her eldest brother's marriage and coming child.

'He is not the only one expecting,' Lady Denham said.

At that moment, with excellent timing, the former Miss Esther Denham entered. Lady Babington was quite as beautiful as she had ever been, but the cutting edge was entirely gone and replaced with the golden glow of the happily married,  _ enceinte _ woman.

'Miss Heywood, how lovely to see you again!' Lady Babington greeted Charlotte with a brief but genuine embrace. She was quite heavy with child - Charlotte had plenty of experience with her mother's condition and guessed the lady was six months into her pregnancy.

'And you, Lady Babington. I do not think I have ever seen you so full of joy.'

'Because I have not been,' Esther replied simply. 'And we are friends, and you must call me Esther, for "Lady Babington" is a mouthful.'

'And I am Charlotte to you,' she replied, feeling the compliment and the transformation in Esther's character both. 'How is Lord Babington?'

'Ah, Ben is in London at the moment, trying to settle various matters before the babe arrives so he can remain at home with us without interruption.'

_ Ben _ . Somehow, Charlotte had not imagined Lord Babington's Christian name to be so ordinary. The affectionate ring Esther gave it was sweet, and she smiled to hear it.

'You should see the nursery,' Lady Denham said. 'Such fuss from Babington, you'd think no child had ever been born before.'

Esther rolled her eyes. 'As far as he is concerned, none has. Leave him to his excitement, aunt.'

'Of course, of course. He is an extraordinary one, indeed.'

'And there is to be a library,' Charlotte asked, not intending to change the subject but unable to hold back on her curiosity any longer. 

'Yes,' said Esther. 'He is most determined. There is a building in town that will do very well while he arranges for a suitably grand library to be built. He feels very strongly that all people who are interested in learning should have the opportunity.'

'Ha!' cried Lady Denham. 'What do working people want of books? They ain't the inclination!'

'Oh, I must disagree,' Charlotte said.

'Of course, you must,' Lady Denham retorted.

'It is not that working people haven't the inclination, but that they lack the means. That is, they haven't time to spare or access to books. I think a library is an excellent idea. It seems to me that the best way to help the poorer members of society reach for better things is to provide them with the means to improve themselves. Those that want to will do so and those that do not, as you say, have the inclination, will remain as they are.'

Lady Denham said nothing in response to this. 'At any rate, a library in our town can only add to the list of amenities to draw visitors in, and anything along those lines is quite all right by me.'

'Even a doctor?' Charlotte teased. 

'Even a doctor,' Lady Denham conceded. 'Doctor Fuchs and I have found a level of mutual appreciation that I must confess I had never considered.'

'She means,' said Esther, 'that Doctor Fuchs has been able to help with her digestive issues.'

'Indeed,' said Lady Denham. 'I can hardly account for it, but d'you believe that I cannot drink cow's milk after all? I now have only goat's milk, and it has transformed my daily life.'

'I am so glad to hear it,' Charlotte sipped at her own tea. 'One of my youngest sisters had a similar concern and was quite miserable for some time after she was weaned until my father deduced the issue.'

'Your father,' said Lady Denham. 'A farmer, is he not?'

'A gentleman,' Charlotte corrected. 'But he values a day's hard work and so is very much involved with the daily running of our estate.'

'A gentleman farmer then,' Lady Denham conceded. 'With fourteen children to raise, funds must be slim.'

'It is not easy, but he has been able to provide a good education to each of us, and we are never in want of anything necessary to a healthy upbringing. Mostly, we are never in want of love or affection, despite our parents' attention being in such demand.'

'They must have been dismayed to see you return home last summer without a husband.'

That was a stinging barb delivered with excruciating accuracy, and Charlotte knew for sure then that Lady Denham had heard the gossip about herself and Sidney. She took a long, deep breath to keep herself in proper regulation. 

'My mother and father have only ever wanted us to be happy, Lady Denham. They did not send me to Sanditon then - or now - with a view to my acquiring a husband. Wealthy or otherwise. Indeed, my father has intimated that he would not mind if I remained unmarried my whole life. I will always have a loving home at Willingden, and he would not see me quit that for anything less.'

She took a breath, then a sip of her tea. Mary, sat beside her on the settee, reached over to pat her free hand. 

'Well said, Charlotte,' Esther said before Lady Denham could. 'I am naturally now myself a firm advocate of happy marriages based on mutual respect and affection.

'Yes,' Lady Denham said. 'And fortunate that your husband is a man of wealth and position.'

'Fortunate,' Esther conceded, 'but by no means required. Were we to find ourselves in the hedgerows tomorrow, I would not mind so very much as I might once have.'

Lady Denham's eyes gleamed with mischief. 'That is good to know, in the event that I change my will again.'

Esther met her aunt's gaze with a steady one of her own. 'It is your money to do with as you wish it, Aunt.'

Lady Denham then  _ laughed _ , which was so extraordinary a sound to Charlotte that the young lady's teacup rattled on its saucer.

'See, Miss Heywood,' Lady Denham said. 'At my advanced age, I have at last learnt to tease.'

'And more importantly,' Esther added, 'to be teased in return.'

The rest of their visit passed in such gentle humour that by the time Charlotte and Mary took their leave, Miss Heywood wondered if she had stumbled into another version of the world where everything was almost-but-not-quite the same as in her own. 

'Such a change!' she told Mary as they walked home. 

'It is sometimes quite discomfiting,' Mary replied. 'But I feel more confident that Lady Denham will not demand her investment back from Tom on a whim, and that is a pleasant feeling.'

'Indeed, it must be. Are things truly going well?'

'Financially? As well as they can. We are by no means  _ secure _ yet, but if this season is a success, we should be in a good position.'

'I will do what I can to assist in the season's success,' Charlotte said. 'If I can help, as I did last year as Tom's assistant, I will do so.'

'That is kind of you. I admit some help with the books would be most welcome. And the regatta is to be a much grander affair, along with the various balls to be held and...'

It was Charlotte's turn now to squeeze Mary's arm affectionately. 'It shall be done, dear Mary.'

She did not miss the look of weary relief that passed over her friend's face, even if Mary pushed it away as quickly as she could.

*

The improved weather held and brought with it the first waves of London visitors. Waterloo terrace, its houses so new that the smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air, took in its first tenants with great fanfare and joy. 

Tom Parker was seen all about the town, his proud grin directed at all who came near, and it was said he greeted every single new arrival personally. 

The first real event of the season was a ball at the assembly rooms, and Mary held to her promise of new gowns for Charlotte. They were beautiful, well-made dresses that avoided fuss and flounce in favour of simplicity, which suited her very well. 

The assembly rooms were already busy when Mrs Parker and her guest arrived. Tom Parker had long since arrived to glad-hand and extol all of Sanditon's best qualities to anyone who would listen.

Charlotte knew that Mrs Campion had arrived the day before, but she had avoided thinking too much of that lady until absolutely necessary. It was now inevitable, as Mrs Campion had taken up a place near the dance floor and was impossible to ignore. She looked very grand and elegant in a dark yellow-gold dress that shone and shimmered in the light provided by hundreds of candles situated all around the room in gilt fittings and the grand chandelier recently installed.

'We must greet her,' Mary muttered. 'Are you well, Charlotte?'

'Of course.' She rolled her shoulders back and approached.

'Charlotte Heywood!' Mrs Campion called out. 'How charming to see you! I had not expected that your family could spare you for another summer.'

Charlotte smiled tightly. 'I could not reject the Parkers' kind invitation to return to Sanditon. It is a place very dear to me, you see.'

'Of course. And Mrs Parker, you look very well this evening.'

'You are very kind, Mrs Campion. Your dress is lovely.'

'I ensured my London modiste provided a full wardrobe before I came down here. I do not think there is a dressmaker in the entire county to equal London talent.'

The other ladies made no reply to this.

'Your dress, Miss Heywood,' Eliza Campion remarked, 'is lovely. Simplicity suits you very well.'

'I thank you,' Charlotte replied. 'I cannot claim to have a London dressmaker, but I believe Mrs Parker's lady has worked wonders in a very short time.'

'Have you seen Sidney this evening?' Mary asked, looking around the near-crush for her brother-in-law.

Mrs Campion frowned. 'He is here, but he excused himself some time ago. Matters of business. No worry, he will be back soon enough.'

Charlotte did not imagine the look of barely-veiled despise that Mrs Campion directed to her. She could not imagine why: it was Mrs Campion who was Sidney's betrothed, not her. Surely any hatred should be directed the other way around? 

Yet, she could not bring herself to hate Mrs Campion. The woman was lovely to look at, and there were surely exceptional qualities about her that Sidney had fallen in love with once upon a time. She seemed perfectly nice when not interacting with Charlotte herself, and even then she could understand some of the jealousy that arose.

Indeed, of all the feelings in the world, Charlotte could understand jealousy over the affections of Sidney Parker more than any other person alive. She fought to keep her own worst emotions under regulation, for she knew that it would harm nobody so much as herself.

'It is really lovely to see you again, Mrs Campion,' she said. 'I feel we did not have a chance to get to know each other last year. As you are soon to become family with my dearest friends, I would so much like us to be friends.'

She surprised even herself with the sincerity of the request. She did mean it, even as it pained her heart to say it. What benefit was there to be at odds with the lady?

Mrs Campion's eyes narrowed a moment, then widened. 'Yes, indeed... Miss Heywood. That sounds... delightful. And yet, a ball is not the place to form firm friendships, so I fear such efforts must wait until- Sidney!'

Charlotte turned. Sidney stood directly behind her and was not quick enough to hide how he drank in the sight of her, and she was sure the same was true in reverse. He looked honestly very handsome in a blue coat and yellow waistcoat that complimented Mrs Campion's dress very well. This outward expression of their connection twisted at Charlotte's heart, but she forced herself to smile pleasantly.

He bowed to her, eyes not leaving her face. 'Miss Heywood.'

'Mr Parker.'

There were too many words that ought to, and could not, be said, so they said nothing more. Sidney's gaze eventually shifted away from Charlotte to Mrs Campion behind her, and he offered up his hand.

'I owe you a dance, Eliza. Shall we?'

Eliza's eyes darted from him to Charlotte and back again. 'I almost thought you had forgotten.'

She took his hand, and they moved onto the dance floor as a merry reel began. Tom also came to claim his wife's hand, leaving Charlotte to stand and watch. 

Fortunately, Miss Diana Parker approached as the dance moved along.

'Miss Heywood! I am so pleased to see you again!' 

'Miss Parker, the feeling is mutual. You look well.'

'You are kind, although I must admit to feeling under the weather of late. I fear I am catching insomnia.'

Charlotte bit back a laugh. 'I hope not, Miss Parker.'

'So, I shall not dance this evening. I do not want to risk turning an ankle and making matters even worse. Have you seen my brother?'

'Which one? Tom and Sidney are both dancing, as you can see. Or perhaps, Arthur? I have not seen him yet.'

'Oh, any of them would do, but if Tom and Sidney are dancing- oh, that woman.' Diana's eyes narrowed to slits as she looked upon Mrs Campion. 'I do not like her very much, although I should probably not say so. She is unkind to Arthur and not very patient with his ailments, of which there are many, despite Dr Fuchs' best efforts.'

'Nothing serious, I hope?'

'Oh, not really. Arthur is Arthur,' Diana laughed lightly, as though she was not also describing herself. 'Are you not dancing, Miss Heywood?'

'As you can see. I am not sure I know many of the gentlemen here who are not already with partners.'

'Ah, Miss Heywood!' A new voice joined the conversation: Lord Babington. 'My wife reminded me that we had not been reacquainted and I thought you might like to dance.'

'Thank you,' she said, taking his hand. 'That is kind of you.'

'I find it an insult of the highest order when a charming, beautiful young lady is left to stand idly by while others dance.'

'I suppose Esther does not feel able to dance?'

'Not in company,' he said. 'But I can still persuade her to take a turn around the room with me at home.'

The dance was enjoyable, and Lord Babington asked if she might wish to dance the second with him. She did, and this time it was of a nature that they were obliged to change partners, and fate held that, of course, she would find herself facing Sidney Parker.

'Miss Heywood.'

'Mr Parker.'

The depth and complexity of emotion that the pair were able to fit into each other's name were admirable, and if Sidney squeezed her fingers a little more than necessary, and if Charlotte's smile reached into her eyes now, it was really no business of anyone else's.

'Should we have some conversation, Mr Parker?' she asked.

'Only if you wish it. Do not feel obliged on my part. I am content to enjoy the dance for its own sake.'

'I feel the same, sir.'

They danced their part in silence then, until the time came for them to return to their own partners. If Mrs Campion was put out by the temporary switch, she was adept enough at hiding her feelings. 

'Are you well, Miss Heywood?' Lord Babington asked when they reunited.

'I am, my lord. I do so enjoy dancing.'

The dance over, he bowed to her and escorted her to where Lady Esther sat, looking very well indeed in a sparkling grey dress that worked well at hiding her condition as much as was reasonable for the stage at which she found herself. He then took himself away and left them to their own entertainment for the time being.

Esther and Charlotte greeted each other with warm familiarity, and the latter chose to sit beside her friend and keep her company for the time being, whether she was asked to dance or not.

'I feel,' said Esther, apropos of nothing. 'that the shade of Mrs Campion's dress does not flatter her quite as well as she believes it.'

'Now,' Charlotte replied with a lightness she wished was real, 'I see what you are doing, and you are sweet, but we both know she looks very handsome.'

'So do you. That dress really does become you, Charlotte. You look radiant.'

'You are kind.'

'I am not kind.' Esther's face hardened a moment, perhaps in recollection of the woman she had been. 'I am honest, that is all.'

'Thank you.' Charlotte nodded. 'But you must not find fault with her to make me feel better. It is not the way.'

'Oh very well, spoil all my fun. I have precious little else I can do for the time being.' Esther patted her bump. 'Except sit feeling large and cumbersome.'

'You are not so very large,' Charlotte giggled. 'And if you would like it, shall we take a walk along the beach tomorrow?'

'That sounds heavenly. I am stuck at Sanditon House so much at present. I will come to you tomorrow at eleven, then.'

'So early?' Charlotte joked, for she was a country girl who rose with the dawn for the most part.

'The babe does not let me sleep as I might wish,' Esther said. 'It  _ kicks _ .'

Lord Babington returned them with glasses of punch for them both. 'I daresay this ball bodes well for the rest of the season. Busy and good-natured.'

'I hope so,' Charlotte looked around and saw that his assessment was sound. 'The Parkers deserve such good fortune. They have worked so hard to make Sanditon a place worth visiting.'

'You know,' he said. 'The first time Sidney brought me here, I couldn't stand the place. Dreary, dull little hamlet stuck out by the sea. I didn't see the point. Tom Parker has worked miracles here.'

'He has had plenty of help,' Esther cut in with a tart tone that indicated the sharp-tongued Miss Esther Denham was not entirely subsumed under the joyful smiles of Lady Esther Babington. 'Indeed, I recall you telling me how you spent Mrs Maudsley's ball shilling for Sanditon.'

'No,' he corrected. 'I spent Mrs Maudsley's ball pining for you while putting up a pretence of shilling for Sanditon.'

It was plain that their happiness now meant that they could laugh at the agonies of the past, though Charlotte fancied she saw a little shadow fall over Lord Babington at recollection of that time. She wondered, her mind drifting, if she would ever be able to think of her own sad experience in the same way.

It did not presently seem likely. The Babingtons, after all, had found their joy while hers had been irrevocably lost and was dancing with its betrothed only a short distance away.

The musicians took a break then, and Sidney took the opportunity to greet his old friend, which had either the benefit or downfall (depending on one's perspective) of bringing him into Charlotte's space once more.

'Babington, I missed you earlier!' he said, grasping his friend warmly by the hand. 'And Lady Babington, you look radiant.'

'I am not the only one, Sidney,' she replied, eyes darting to Charlotte in a manner so underhanded as to be utterly conspicuous. 'Does not Charlotte look lovely this evening?'

Given permission to openly appraise her in such a way, Sidney did so. His attention sent a wave of warmth through her entire body that she only knew from those occasional mornings having woken from a discomfiting sort of dream.

'Miss Heywood,' he said, voice low and  _ infuriating _ . 'I do believe you look lovelier every time I see you.'

'You may direct the greater portion of praise to Mary,' she replied, the impossibility of this moment sending a hot wave of rage after the previous warmth. 'For she is the one who arranged for it all. Now, I pray you all excuse me a moment.'

Charlotte intended to seek out Mary again, confident she would be safer with that sensible matron but found herself instead seeking solitude upstairs, though she did not dare go near the balcony where Sidney had come so tantalisingly close to proposing marriage to her. 

If Lady Susan were here, they would sit together and joke about the silliness of balls and society. But Susan was not yet in Sanditon. Likely, she was still in Brighton with her close friend, and so Charlotte was quite alone.

It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to over the past year. She had not been able to share much of her experience with her family, and she had taken to spending much time out of doors: there were always tasks that she could use as an excuse. Indeed, she had spent so much time feeding the cows and hunting for rabbits that the former all took to calling out to her, and the latter had made themselves as scarce as possible.

Solitude did not suit Charlotte Heywood. She was lively and at her best with other people. Alone, she was too much inside her head without the necessary perspective of another person's point of view.

Once she had realised the benefit (and he had stopped judging her so harshly) Sidney had been the finest 'other point of view' she'd known. He saw the world so very differently, had such vastly different experience that he always had something to say that would make her consider the alternatives. She didn't always agree with the alternative, but she found the act of consideration helped her solidify her own position.

She felt the absence of their friendship as keenly as the loss of their more profound connection. There were not many men of her acquaintance who were willing to engage in dialogue with women - even Tom had a tendency towards patronising dismissal on many topics - and she was not built for so much solitude.

'Miss Heywood, why are you not on the dance floor?'

Charlotte jumped, having not heard anyone approach. The voice was not a welcome intrusion into her thoughts, but it was done, and she could not avoid it. She turned to face its owner.

'Mrs Campion, I did not hear you. I am not dancing because nobody has asked, and if they had, I feel I would likely say no. I find myself quite fatigued.'

'To be fatigued at a ball at such a tender age! How unfortunate. I recall when I was a young miss, how I loved so much to dance. Sidney and I used to dance until the musicians were quite done in!'

'That was before you married, I suppose?'

Mrs Campion's smile dropped. Charlotte's unsaid  _ "to someone who was not Sidney"  _ hardly needed to be spoken aloud _ .  _ 'Of course. Married women - and indeed, engaged ladies - are usually much too busy for such larks.'

'I am sure you have a great many demands on your time, Mrs Campion, so I certainly feel the compliment of your taking time to speak with me.'

'A pleasure, Charlotte. After all, you are such good friends with Tom and Mary. And of course, the children. You must work so hard.'

Charlotte did not appreciate the use of her first name without permission or of the pointed remark about the children but schooled her expression into one of pleasant neutrality. 'Not at all, for I only see the children when they are out of their schoolroom. They are such sweet, loving children that I do not feel the time spent with them is an effort at all. But of course, you are soon to be their aunt, so you must spend a good amount of time with them yourself. Is Jenny's reading not coming along well?'

Mrs Campion almost cracked. 'In truth, I have not spent a great deal of time with them, but I do hold them in the warmest affection. I know Sidney takes his duties as their uncle very seriously indeed.'

'I would not say entirely seriously,' Charlotte smiled sincerely at several memories. 'His captaincy of the English fleet comes to mind.'

Eliza did crack: her whole posture froze and all pretence of civility dropped. Her hands clenched into her sides; her lips thinned as she pursed them tight. The temperature around her seemed to drop by several degrees.

Then, it was almost as if it had not happened. Eliza relaxed again, and if she did not smile exactly, neither did she look angry or distressed.

'Of course,' she said. 'He is such a good uncle that I am certain he will be the most attentive of fathers when the time comes.'

It was a barb intended to wound Charlotte in the most grievous way, but it did not quite hit its mark.

'Oh, Mrs Campion,' she replied in something just above a whisper. 'I am sure he will be. You and I both know, better than anyone in the world, how devoted he is when he sets his heart. And how hard his heart becomes when it is broken.'

There was nothing more to say, and she had no wish to wait for Mrs Campion's response. If it was rude, she cared not as she squared her shoulders and walked briskly away.

There was something to be said for the Sanditon Assembly Rooms: they were close enough to Trafalgar House that it was the work of a quick walk across two streets to reach the safety and yet more solitude of her own room. 


	5. After the Ball Is Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind comments so far - I really appreciate them!
> 
> I couldn't sleep last night, so here's what I scribbled through half-closed eyes at about 2am - hopefully it doesn't show too badly!
> 
> Title of the chapter is taken from the (quite hokey) old music hall song 'After the Ball' which is much too late in composition to be appropriate for the story but works in a thematic sense, I suppose.

'What did she say to you?'

It was early in the morning after the ball - early enough that the Parkers were not yet awake but late enough that Charlotte was at the breakfast table. She had just finished a boiled egg and was drinking tea before starting on toast and jam when Sidney Parker appeared, entirely without warning, at the door and barked his question - more demand, in truth - at her.

'Good morning, Mr Parker,' Charlotte ignored his question and ignored how he had not waited to finish combing his hair or tying his cravat before coming downstairs to question her. 'How are you this morning? I do hope you slept well.'

'I did not. What did she say to you?'

'You will have to be more precise, sir. I have spoken to many ladies of late. Of whom do you speak and when, pray tell?'

He visibly gritted his teeth, and his jawbone clenched a moment. ' _ Eliza _ . What did you she say to you that caused you to flee the ball?'

'Flee? I did not flee anywhere, sir. Are you going to sit and eat? I am happy to pass the jam along should you wish for it. It is an excellent strawberry from Lady Denham's estate.'

'Do stop this nonsense. Tell me what she said to you.'

Charlotte had come to slump a little in her seat; she sat up with a straight back and returned his annoyed glare with a cold one of her own. 'Have I ever once, in all the time you have known me, responded to your shouting as you might wish me to?'

That gave him pause. 'No.'

'And yet you persist in trying.'

'Forgive me,' he said, anger seeping from him. 'I was worried about you.'

'And you need not be, I assure you. If you refer to the brief conversation I had with your betrothed yesterday evening, before I chose to return home, I assure you that you have no reason for worry or concern. It was a perfectly pleasant conversation.'

'Of what did you speak?'

'Very many things. Why, we spoke of your affection for your nieces and nephews, of her fondness for dancing all night. Why, we even spoke of children-'

'Please, desist,' he snapped, kicking a chair away from the table with his foot that he might fall into it. He reached for the teapot and poured himself a cup that he drank down without milk or sugar. He grimaced. 'That is vile.'

'It was not fresh.'

'Evidently.' A pause as he visibly considered his next approach. 'When I said goodbye to you that day, I thought I would never see you again.'

'I know.'

'I should not be surprised that you continue to plague me even now. Since the earliest moments of our acquaintance, you have had an unerring ability to get in my way.' He spoke only with affection, eyes soft across the table. 

'Sidney, I must beg you to cease speaking to me as though we-'

'As though?'

'As though we are... are sweethearts. We cannot be.'

He drooped, gaze fixed on his cup of lukewarm tea.'Aye.'

'I do not blame you; you must know that. I am cognizant of the very real danger your family was in and the measures you had to take to save them. I wish...' She wiped an errant tear away. 'I wish it were not true, but it is true, and we must act as such. We are friends, and we must act as friends, not as... whatever we were to each other then.'

'You are my dearest love,' he said, so softly she knew the words were not meant for her to hear.

In that small room with no other soul present, she could not stop herself from replying: 'And you are mine.'

'I know it cannot be,' he said. 'I meant it when I wished you every happiness. You deserve no less, even if it tears at the very fabric of my  _ soul _ that I cannot be the one to make you happy. I resolved to make the best of the situation, but I could not, and now you are here, I cannot.'

'Yet what alternative is there? You cannot break the engagement without endangering your family's fortunes once again and exposing yourself to public censure. You may not be married yet, Sidney, but it makes no real difference to you or I.'

He poured another cup of foul, stewed tea and drank it down as though it formed some part of a penitence ritual. 'It does not.'

'So,' she took a deep breath. 'We must resolve again to make the best of the situation and find our happiness where we may find it.'

'In friendship.'

'Yes, in friendship. otherwise, I am sure this summer will be intolerably painful, and I will not waste a whole summer in such a fashion.'

He smiled, wry and sad. 'I admire you, Charlotte. Your way of looking at the world is so completely different from my own.'

'And that is why we will make such excellent friends.' She rose from the table, and he returned the gesture. 'I will see you later?'

'I am sure you will. Until then.'

'Until then.'

'One more thing!' he called out. She turned with caution, wondering what was to come next. 'If Eliza is unpleasant to you, you must tell me at once.'

'Absolutely not! Good day, Mr Parker.' She shook her hair and strode from the room.

*

The town was much busier with the arrival of tourists and visitors, which did not help when all Charlotte wanted was some peace and quiet. After receiving word from Lady Babington that she did not feel up to a walk that morning after all, Charlotte spent much of the day assisting Mary and Tom with one thing or another and now longed for a few minutes to herself.

Of course, as the eldest daughter of a dozen children, Charlotte was accustomed to not getting that time and to finding solutions. At home in Willingden, she had a hollowed-out tree to which she could escape; in Sanditon there were several places by the water, but she could not risk stumbling upon any more bathers or - as happened that day - pairs of bathers who ought to know better.

It was remarkable to her, in truth, that society placed such rigid rules and expectations upon its young women, but not upon young men. Being well-read for a lady, she was not altogether surprised by what she saw, but it was one thing to read and another to witness such.

Somehow, merely chancing upon Sidney Parker as he bathed was innocence itself by comparison. Outdoors, and during the day? That had never even occurred to her.

Yet now, because her heart and mind were traitors working in tandem, they did drift to such thoughts as her essentially-innocent self could conjure. The walk along the cliffs took her in the direction of Sanditon Hall, but she had no intention of travelling so far. 

Instead, she found herself at a quiet spot not far from where she had found Georgiana in distress one day, and settled herself down onto the soft, dry grass. She gazed out to sea for a moment, took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

'Miss Heywood! Miss Heywood!'

She opened her eyes again. There, coming up the path at some speed, was Arthur Parker. He was much as she remembered, although perhaps a little less red in the face.

'Mr Parker, how nice to see you.'

'Aye, and you! It has been such a long time.'

'It has.' She stood, and Arthur helped her up. 'I should return to town.'

'I am on my way to my brother's house, and I will be most happy to walk with you.'

'You are very kind. What has kept you occupied since I saw you last?'

'My health, mostly. Dr Fuchs has me on a terrible restricted diet. No cheese, no rich meals...'

'That sounds challenging.'

'Oh, yes, it is! I have to go to the tavern for pie now and resort to taking Diana's portion of toast in the mornings!'

'How does Miss Parker feel about that?'

'She doesn't mind, for she says she hasn't the appetite for it. Now, Miss Heywood, I wanted to ask you about Miss Lambe. Have you heard from her?'

'I have not. I wrote to her a couple of times, but she did not write back. Your brother - Sidney, I mean - says she is well, and she is his ward, and I expect he would know.'

'Yes, Sidney... now there is another puzzle.'

'Yes, Mr Parker?'

'May I speak freely, Miss Heywood?'

'Of course.'

Arthur looked at her with a greater portion of wisdom than she had previously thought him willing to bestow. 'I know there was something between you- please, do not be offended. I know my brother better than he thinks, and I could see that he held you in the highest regard. He was changed - and for the better - last summer and now I fear that he is worse than ever before. He hides it better, for he has much practice. I was only a boy when Eliza first broke his heart, but I remember better than anyone realises. I was dismayed when she returned.' This long speech delivered while walking taxed him so that he was forced to pause to take a breath. 'I know that... I mean, there is nothing that to be done, but if you have any idea about how I might be able to help raise his spirits. I hope I have not given you more pain in the asking, but you see, I remember, and I could not bear to see him so... so wretched again.'

'I do not know, Mr Parker. Only... well, have you ever known him to be led by anyone? You must, I think, leave him be, for he does not take well to direction.'

'He is his own man!' Arthur declared, breath restored. 'Ever has he been! Even as children, Tom tells me that Sidney was always the one in charge and always the one to keep the rest out of trouble. You know, he even once saved another boy from drowning?'

'Really?'

'Yes. They were all swimming in the river, closer to the old Parker house, the one Tom wants to see turned into a hospital, and the other boy got into trouble. Sidney jumped right in and pulled him out of the water before he could drown. The boy's mother was overcome when he told her and insisted to our parents that Sidney be found a place at a good school. She was a fine lady, I'm told, and had the connections to secure him a place at Eton. Our parents were gentlefolk but not in a position to send us all to fine schools. He was always the special one, y' see. But... I do not need to tell you that, Miss Heywood.'

'No, you do not.'

'I wish... I wish that I could change our stars, you know. I would change only a few things.'

'What would they be?'

'Why, for Sidney to be happy. For Diana to be without her worries and for me... I would like to fit better.'

'Fit?'

'I do not fit, Miss Heywood. I don't just mean that I am fat, for I am, but I do not fit. I am awkward and foolish, and I do things without thinking. Like handling Lady Denham's pineapple. I only meant to change the subject from Miss Lambe, but... I always go wrong, somehow.'

'It was a kind thing you did. You were not to know the rotten thing was... well, rotten.'

He laughed at that, a loud boom of a thing that lightened her heart. For all their faults, she was inordinately fond of the Parkers.

Arthur was more than capable of holding up their conversation all the way back to town, and she contented herself to listen. They parted ways at Trafalgar House, where Arthur went off to speak to Tom and Charlotte took off her coat and boots.

'Are you intent on charming every member of my family, Miss Heywood?'

Once again, Sidney had appeared in a doorway without warning. He was far better groomed than at their last meeting - his valet must have caught up at last.

'I am beginning to understand why you were so disconcerted when I appeared to be everywhere that you were, sir.'

'Forgive me.' He did not, in this instance, appear in possession of much remorse. He was dressed in his coat and had his hat in his hand.

'Are you going out, Mr Parker?'

'I have an appointment for dinner.'

'With Mrs Campion?'

He shook his head. 'With Crowe, at the Denham Arms. He has newly arrived from London.'

'Do you spend any time with your betrothed?'

He did not answer, but she could see "not if I may possibly avoid it" writ large upon his features and she regretted asking.

'No wonder she dislikes me so,' she said, not at all meaning to speak aloud.

'I will speak to her-'

'You will not! Do not be cruel, Sidney. If we must live unhappily, at least live kindly.'

He bowed deeply as though she were a queen and not a country girl. 'If you command it, Charlotte.'

'In this case, I think I must.'

He sighed and tugged on his coat lapels. 'You are a better person than I.'

'Undoubtedly. Now, go away.'

He left with a chuckle in his throat, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidney's perspective next, perhaps...


	6. A Notable Lack of Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments so far - really awesome!
> 
> Finally, let's hear from the other half of this particularly tangled up equation. Also, I dig a little into why 'Asking Georgiana For The Money' was not possible.

It would be a faithful account of Sidney Parker's present situation to observe that sleep was but a distant acquaintance of late. As might be reasonably concluded, his mood and patience were both consequently low. 

He had not wanted to return to Sanditon, a place he had very little reason to consider with fondness, not least when every corner of the infernal little town threw memories of Charlotte Heywood at him. The outcome was a state of acutest heartsickness, and there was not a soul in whom he felt able to confide in an attempt to lessen the affliction.

The Denham Arms was the only premises in which he could find no association to Miss Heywood, and happily, it was also a place into which he could lose himself. The noisy, simple little inn suited his dark mood so almost every evening he arrived as everyone else was deepening in their cups to sit amongst them. Sometimes he would drink, but he found excessive drinking no longer suited him.

He felt, reasonably or not, that Charlotte would be disappointed in him were he to wreck his health through misery, so the bottle of brandy the landlord placed in front of him each evening was emptied only a little at a time.

Then, when his patience wore out there, he walked. Whether through the deserted streets or along the beach or the cliffs, he cared not. He walked not for exercise but to kill time.

His life was now entirely an exercise in killing time until time killed him. Rationally, Sidney knew that he ought to make the best of the situation. He had been doing a passably good job of that very endeavour but being back in Sanditon, in the same house as Charlotte Heywood no less, had undone any progress made. 

Sidney knew Eliza was displeased with him. It ought to have been a cause for concern, but in the dark shadow where his heart used to be, he found it most satisfying. Let her suffer as he suffered!

'Are you not drinking?' Crowe insisted on this particular evening. He had been happy to let Sidney stew without much in the way of conversation, but he was not going to allow him to do so with a clear head. He prodded the bottle across the table.

When Eliza had first broken his heart, Sidney had not made wise choices. He had flung himself into a life of empty, reputation-wrecking hedonism until Tom bailed him out and he fled to Antigua. He had since erred on the side of conscious indulgence. He had not cared more, until Charlotte.

How unfair that Charlotte bloody Heywood was still dictating his choices even now when she was not his, and she had no interest in being his.

He had come  _ so close _ to making a most improper, immoral, insulting proposition when first returned to her company; he had kept himself away from the house until better able to restrain himself. On one of his walks, he had an epiphany that cleared up matters:  _ in no version of the world was Charlotte Heywood any man's mistress.  _ It was utterly beneath her dignity, her heart and her soul. He would rather never see her again than degrade her so, even in the hollow recess of his soul.

She still insisted on dominating his thoughts and directing his actions. He would not degrade her, but there was nothing to stop him from degrading himself, surely? It reflected nothing on Miss Heywood if he was in a poor state. It might, however, reflect upon Mrs Campion.

Sidney reached for the bottle, and Crowe applauded and called for another.

*

Despite being significantly drunker than he had been for some time, Sidney still went walking abroad through the town as the hours moved from one and two to three in the morning and the land was the stillest it ever was.

Crowe had taken himself up to bed - with a bedfellow or not, Sidney knew and cared not - and so he was left alone to wander. 

Sidney was drunk enough that the walk took considerably more time and effort than it ought. He found himself a perch upon a rock in the cove where he liked to swim and settled down with the last of the brandy.

It was poor quality stuff, and his taste buds were offended at throwing it down his throat. His lesser self, which had been so much in charge in the bad old days, reminded him that the quality meant nothing at all when oblivion was the target. 

He reached down, quite unconsciously, to scratch at his arms. It had been ten years since he had set foot inside an opium den but occasionally when at a low ebb, Sidney missed it. Not the dependence or the high feeling, but the  _ oblivion _ . Sometimes, nothing was the best of a set of terrible options.

Fortunately, while Sanditon had many grand and grim amenities, from the Assembly Rooms to Adams' Gin Palace, it did not yet have a trade in the kind of thing he presently and briefly craved. Inferior brandy was enough for now - as the night wore on, Sidney found the empty nothingness he knew he deserved.

*

'Sidney! Good lord, man!'

Sidney regained consciousness - it is not accurate here to say he awoke - with his brother Tom's boot against his ribs.

He regretted trying to move - half a night sleeping on rocks in the great outdoors left him feeling stiff and sore like a board. His head did not yet ache, but only because he was still, in essence, inebriated.

'I am most disappointed,' Tom told him, frowning down at him. 'Why, had Hodges not received discreet word from a fisherman friend, I would not have been able to find you without some scandal. You put all our hard work at risk!'

Sidney rolled himself off the rocks onto the softer sand and from there stumbled his way upright on complaining bones.

'I vow, Tom,' he said, voice dry and scratching, 'If you ever tell me that  _ I  _ am putting any hard work of yours at risk, I will shoot you.'

'Shoot me? You make no sense, man!'

'I will shoot you,' Sidney repeated. 'Where you stand. I will leave you there to be carrion for crows and-' he hiccoughed. 'And seagulls. Do not lecture  _ me _ on risking our family name or fortune when  _ everything _ that has happened rests in your hands!'

'Why, Sidney,' Tom switched from gentle scolding to pacifying, 'We will talk when you are clearer-headed.'

'Now is a good time,' Sidney insisted. Almost a year had passed since the fire and so nearly a year of biting his tongue. 'If not for _ _ you, brother, I would almost certainly be happily married, I would not be reduced to- to this.'

'However can you blame  _ me?  _ T'was not I who broke the engagement to Eliza all those years ago. I helped you-'

'I do not speak of Eliza!' Sidney roared, brandied blood boiling. 'Are you a fool or blind or both? Do you really not know? Did you not  _ see it?' _

'See what? You are making no sense, Sidney.'

'If not for  _ you _ and your recklessness, Tom! If you had just  _ bought the bloody insurance!' _

'Really, Sidney. I will not stand here and have your nonsensical ramblings and ravings-'

In years to come, Sidney would not quite recollect precisely what made him snap. He would not ever recall the moment in which his fist drew back and made contact with his brother's cheek, but he never forgot the feeling of bone under his knuckles or the blooming bruise that rose even as Tom fell to the ground.

'If you had bought the insurance, I would not have had to place myself under Eliza's power to save  _ you _ from the Clink and your family from the poorhouse! If you had- if you had just  _ done what you ought _ , I would be married to my dearest love this very moment. I might now be waking in her arms, instead of...' he waved an arm vaguely around. 'Instead of this abject, neverending misery!'

Tom blinked over and over, stunned more than hurt for now. 'Really Sidney, you must be clearer.'

'It is one thing to send me to hell,' Sidney told him. 'But to do the same to Charlotte, who you profess to be fond of? Tom, you are my brother, and I love you, but I want to tear you limb from limb-'

Tom Parker's expression froze a moment, then dropped entirely as he finally, truly understood. 'You... and  _ Charlotte _ ? I did not- My dear brother, I did not- I did not know!'

'You appear to be the only one who did not know. You and, for quite some time, myself.'

Sidney was obliged to take a moment while Tom sifted through his memories to piece it all together.

'I was glad you were becoming friends,' he recalled. 'I had no idea. I raved about Eliza to Charlotte at Mrs Maudsley's Ball-'

'And another mystery is resolved,' Sidney spat, rage returning.

'I am ceaselessly sorry, Sidney. I pray you will forgive me-'

'Do not ask for forgiveness,' he cut in. 'The remedy is not yours. There is no remedy for what you did, Tom.'

'If not for Old Man Stringer-'

'Do not blame the dead man!' Sidney moved to hit his brother again but recoiled in time. 'Had you provided enough men to do the work, if you had not cut corners, he would not have been working into the night on his own. He would not have  _ worked himself to death for you _ !'

This, Sidney felt later, was a remark that was at once true and a step too far. Tom had been in the process of standing up, but at Sidney's words, he collapsed in on himself and began to weep.

'I know,' he admitted. 'I know. I am... a man is dead because of my foolishness.'

'Recklessness.'

'Yes, recklessness. A man is dead, and now you tell me that you offered for Eliza only for the money? But why? There were other opportunities-'

'There were not. Not an investor in all of London was willing to even  _ meet _ with me. Your name and that of Sanditon was synonymous with folly. Nobody would even  _ meet _ with me.'

'What of Georgiana? She has one hundred thousand!'

Sidney was so horrified at the idea that he sobered up. 'For me to take money from my ward? When I swore to her dying father to protect her from such schemes? I could never call myself a gentleman or look myself in the eye for as long as I lived! I would be rightfully considered a scoundrel and fraudster of the world sort!'

There is some consolation to be found at that moment, perhaps, for Sidney realised there was at least  _ one _ alternative that was even worse than the predicament in which he found himself.

Sidney reached out to give his brother a hand up. Tom took it after a moment's hesitation.

'I resolve,' Tom said most solemnly, 'that I will be a better sort of man for you.'

'I do not signify,' Sidney snapped. 'Be a better sort for your wife and children.'

'I will, I swear it.'

One of the Parker brothers believed this remark completely. The other was Sidney, who had a far better assessment of his brother's character than did Tom himself.

He rubbed at his aching eyes. 'We should return to the house, I suppose.'

'You must have a bath. You smell like a fishing boat.'

'I would rather swim-'

'In your condition, I fear you would drown.'

'That would not be the worst scenario, Tom.'

'Now, don't be like that. There is always a better day ahead. Indeed, I am already considering how we may improve your fate and...'

Sidney ignored Tom's steady stream of chatter as they walked back towards town. Some men, he thought, were capable of profound change. Others would never change, no matter how they proclaimed their determination to do so. He hoped to be the former and feared Tom was always the latter. 

*

It was fortunate that Sidney was able to enter Trafalgar House and reach the solitude of his room without happening upon either Charlotte or Mary. He had not the courage to face either of them in such a sad state, for he set great store upon their opinions and wished not to disappoint.

By the time he was fit for decent company again, word had come that a lady was visiting. He feared a moment that Eliza had come calling and was at that very moment with Charlotte, but this was dispelled when his valet Saunders said he did not recognise the lady.

He took himself down the stairs with the single intent of making himself known and quickly leaving the house.

'Sidney Parker.' Lady Susan, one of the most influential women of the ton and rumoured paramour of the Prince Regent himself, sat in the small sitting room opposite Charlotte, where he had himself put himself during their difficult tea conversation. 'How pleasant to see you again.'

Lady Susan did not sound altogether pleased and reminded him more of an adder at just the moment before it struck unsuspecting prey.

He bowed deeply to her. 'Lady Susan. I did not know you were in Sanditon.'

'I arrived last night and had to see my dear Charlotte above all other commitments. I have missed her company so!'

'So much she speaks as if I am not in the room,' Charlotte joked, smiling warmly at her friend. 

'Does Charlotte not look exceedingly well, Mr Parker?' 

He dared not break Lady Susan's firm, icy gaze. 'Lady Susan, as Charlotte's particular friend you will be aware both of my answer and why I may not provide it to you.'

Susan's smile tightened as her gaze narrowed. She was not an adder at all; she was a warrior of the sort the Amazons produced, and he felt that she could - and would - best him even in a physical altercation.

Lady Susan, however, did not need to throw a fist when a twist of her lips and a properly placed remark could achieve the same ends. 'I am in possession of all the particulars, Mr Parker. Your reasons were sound, I suppose, even if your choice was-'

'Complicated,' Charlotte interrupted. 'Susan, leave him alone. There is nothing you can say to him that he has not already thought of himself.'

'Are you in Sanditon long, Lady Susan?' he asked. 'Ch- Miss Heywood said you were visiting but did not say for how long.'

'Oh, at least a fortnight or two. I am waiting to see if a particular friend is inclined to visit or if I will be invited instead to Brighton.'

'My brother Tom will be glad to see you.'

'And the society that follows in my wake, I am sure.'

Sidney nodded. 'And that.'

'I like Sanditon,' Lady Susan declared, a little grander than the company required. 'It is small and sweet and reminds me of dear Charlotte here. I hope to stay at least as long as the regatta. Will you be rowing again, Mr Parker?'

'I am at my brother's disposal.'

'And there will be cricket again. The working men of the town have declared their firm intention to win this year.'

'As we have declared our intention to win the boat race,' Sidney sent back with a grin. 'But will Miss Heywood take her place on the gentlemen's cricket team once again?'

'I cannot imagine I will be wanted-'

'Of course you shall,' he said, quite forgetting formality or their guest. 'We want to win, and so you must be on the team. After last year, I do not imagine anyone will object.'

'There will be many more outsiders,' Lady Susan reminded him. 'You must consider Charlotte's reputation. You have not been so cautious-'

'Anyone who dislikes me for playing a silly game is not someone I care for,' Charlotte declared before blushing hotly. 'I apolog-'

'No, no.' Lady Susan beamed at her and even reached over the table to pat Charlotte's hand fondly. 'Do not. This is one of the reasons I am so fond of you, my dear. You will play then.'

'Perhaps a pair of breeches could be found, so I do not have to-'

'A step too far, I fear,' Sidney said before she could finish. The mere idea of Charlotte wearing breeches was enough to send his tired blood roaring again. 'You did not seem hampered by your skirts last time.'

'I played only one ball,' she reminded him. 'Quite different from a full game.'

'You will be fine,' he assured her. The clock behind him chimed. 'Forgive me, ladies, but I am expected-'

'Give Mrs Campion my regards,' Lady Susan said, edge back in her voice. 'I am keen for her to know I am in the neighbourhood. Indeed, I will be her close neighbour in your brother's new terrace.'

Sidney bowed and could not help the broad grin that spread across his face. 'I will be happy to do so, my lady.'

It was good, he thought, to know that Charlotte had another champion - one a good deal more ferocious than himself. Although sure Lady Susan regarded him with suspicion and perhaps even contempt, he could not help liking her. 

*


	7. A Palpable Hit

Lady Susan's arrival heralded a series of events that kept the little town of Sanditon busy indeed. The town swelled to its highest ever population as members of the _ _ ton followed Lady Susan's example. Everyone else followed  _ them _ in their quest to keep up and climb the greased ladder.

Tom Parker could not have been happier as he greeted dozens of wealthy, important new faces; Dr Fuchs' diary filled quickly; Lady Denham was gratified to have so many people paying their respects to the great lady of the town; the bathing machine operators, landlords and innkeepers could not keep up with demand.

The cricket teams (gentlemen (and one lady) and workers both) were determined to win and spent a not-insignificant amount of time discreetly practising at opposite ends of the beach. They were usefully separated by the dozens of small tents, gazebos and windbreakers set up for the comfort of guests who could afford to sit in and out of the sun all at once.

The gentlemen (and one lady) had the distinct advantage of time on their side, while the working men relied on limited free time when they were not hard at work.

The gentlemen's efforts were the subject of great interest by visitors and guests. The sight of hearty young men in their shirtsleeves brought the younger female guests flocking to sit - quite by chance of course - near to their makeshift cricket pitch. The sight of a lady playing amongst them inspired some further curiosity although it is to the credit of those same folk that, once established Miss Heywood was a perfectly  _ proper sort of gel _ and nothing untoward was occurring, this ceased to be half so interesting.

Mrs Campion led the group of lady spectators in her place as Mr Parker's betrothed and by far the wealthiest of the non-titled ladies (more than quite a number of the titled ones, too). She sat in a wicker chair under a large green parasol to keep the sun at bay from where she could see every detail of the practice game. 

A well-informed observer might note with curiosity that Mary Parker and Lady Susan were also present but had chosen a less prominent position under a gazebo near the dunes. The Parker children played around them, digging holes, building sandcastles and occasionally breaking out into spats and bickers before finding peace again.

Charlotte was decidedly uncomfortable with the scrutiny, not least of Mrs Campion. Although she was confident that she had made her point clear during their previous conversation, Charlotte did not feel at all that Mrs Campion was a benevolent presence - the feeling of being surveilled continuously was tiring.

'Come along, Miss Heywood, you can do better than that!' Crowe barked from his wicket-keeper position as she missed hitting a ball entirely. 

'Do not barrack a lady, Crowe,' Babington called out from his position at Square Leg.

'As long as she is on this team, she is a gentleman and fit to be barracked like the rest of us, Babbers!'

'I do not mind,' Charlotte added. 'It was a silly miss.'

'Ah, see!' Crowe waved his left hand wildly at her, then at Babington, 'She understands.'

'I do not like you when you are sober and competitive,' Babington replied. 'Far better when you are drunk and apathetic.'

'I quite agree,' Crowe replied. 'But I shall not be defeated again. If we are to practice - and I am not at all sure we should - then we should do so properly.'

It struck Charlotte how little she knew this libertine fellow and what a mass of contradictions he now appeared. Whyever was Sidney friends with him in the first place?

That same gentleman had by now retrieved the ball and was ready to bowl again.

'Are you ready, Miss Heywood?' he asked, with nothing but neutral propriety around her now. 'I should not like you to be distracted again.'

'I will not be distracted, sir. Do get on.'

He rolled his eyes at her, then took the run and bowled cleanly at her. She was ready this time and hit the ball with a mighty CRACK! of willow. The ball soared into the air towards the water's edge and she began her run at the other wicket.

Fielding, Tom Parker caught the ball neatly, pulling it to his chest. 'Ha!' 

Caught out, Charlotte ceased her run, quite close to the other wicket and Sidney Parker. The onlookers clapped politely.

'Well hit, Miss Heywood!' Crowe called out. 'Arthur, your turn at-bat. And do  _ try _ to run when required!'

'He was even worse at school,' Sidney told her. 'He's insufferably bossy with a clear head.'

Charlotte almost laughed but was keenly aware of how many pairs of eyes were upon them. With her gaze cast down, she handed the bat to Arthur Parker and took up a position in the outfield - suitably far for a lady, should her fragile little self find itself too close to a swiftly moving ball.

After a few minutes, she found that her left wrist ached and by the time the team were called in for refreshments, it throbbed painfully. The team and their guests and companions flocked to the drinks and cakes provided by Mrs Parker's household.

Mary Parker frowned as she handed Charlotte a glass of lemonade, only to be greeted with a wince. 'Are you well, Charlotte?'

'I think I hurt my wrist when I hit the ball,' she conceded. 'Nothing terrible.'

'Ladies are not made for sport,' Mrs Campion remarked, her voice loud and clear, earning a mixture of agreement or dissent from the assembled ladies. 'Although it is admirable you should make an attempt.'

'We must ask Dr Fuchs to have a look at it,' Mary said, apparently ignoring Eliza. 'Diana, would you be so kind as to walk with Charlotte?'

Diana, Dr Fuchs' most regular patient by a sizeable margin, was up on her feet before Mary had finished asking the question. "Follow me, Charlotte! I'm sure Dr Fuchs will have a few minutes to examine your wrist.'

Charlotte was all-but-dragged (by her good wrist) off the beach and into town. Dr Fuchs was busy but made a few minutes for her between patients.

'A slight sprain, merely,' he declared, mind already on his next patient. 'Ice will help.'

'Thank you, Dr Fuchs!' Diana answered for Charlotte. 'I will take her home and apply ice directly!'

Charlotte was thus dragged again, this time back to Trafalgar House, where Hodges sent a boy out for ice. She was invited to hold her hand in a bucket of cold water in the meantime.

It did help, but nobody had bothered to enquire and discover that Charlotte was familiar with sprains and twists thanks not only to her many accident-prone siblings but her own propensity to scramble around countryside wherever she found it.

The players returned to the house after an over or two more, Crowe providing a steady commentary of advice and feedback regarding their team and individual quality of play.

Tom Parker had one chief enquiry for Charlotte: 'Will you be well in time for the match?'

'Oh yes, a few days' rest is all it needs.'

Crowe glanced down at her, the wrist now strapped in a bandage and towel-wrapped ice against the joint. 'Nothing much wrong with her. Just as well, given she's twice the player of some of you.'

Nobody was inclined to disagree, although whether because they agreed with his assessment or did not want to encourage more scolding, she did not know.

Dinner was a lively affair: all the Parkers and Charlotte, Lady Susan, the Babingtons, Mrs Campion and Mr Crowe (still commendably and uncharacteristically sober). Lady Denham declined, citing fatigue, to the quiet pleasure of all. Charlotte did her best to eat with one hand, which raised some moments of amusement for the party.

A separation of the sexes followed, which was not altogether welcomed by everyone. Crowe had become weary of sobriety and longed for an opportunity to break out properly, which could not be done in a lady's house, while the ladies did not particularly wish to combine as they had.

Lady Susan and Charlotte took up a place by the fire, for the former was feeling the cold, while Mrs Parker was obliged to entertain her future sister-in-law across the room.

'You look tired, Charlotte,' Susan remarked. 'Pale, I would say.'

'I am tired,' Charlotte admitted. 'But it is a pleasant sort of tired. The sort of tired one has after a day well spent in activity, rather than lingering around the house.'

'If you are certain. As for your wrist, I am not at all pleased that you have been maimed.'

'I am not maimed, I assure you. I will be fine in a day or two.'

'How wonderful it is to be so young and vigorous,' said Mrs Campion. 'Able to leap around with such abandon.'

'To dance all night?' Charlotte asked with all innocence. 'As you told me, you miss those particular days of your own youth.'

Next to her, Lady Susan pressed a lip between her teeth, perhaps to suppress a smile. 'I do not miss being young. I find experience so much more useful.'

'I am sure your particular friend agrees,' Mrs Campion replied. 

Lady Susan's entire demeanour froze - even her hair seemed to cease its gentle sway - and she fixed Mrs Campion with a look that Charlotte could not decipher. Then, in a move that would cause absolute havoc in broader society, Lady Susan turned away from Eliza to speak directly to Mary. 'I must say, Mrs Parker, you have a charming house.'

'Thank you.' Mary looked between the two women, at Charlotte, and then back to Lady Susan. 'It has been several years' work since the house was completed.'

'Where did you make your home before?'

'Oh, Tom's old family home outside Sanditon. Our first three children were born there. It is small compared to Trafalgar House but a very sweet, charming house.'

'You sound like you miss it, Mrs Parker.'

'I confess that I do, from time to time. I think most ladies have a particular fondness for the house in which they passed the earliest years of their marriage.'

Lady Susan's smile widened, and she clapped her hands together. 'I quite agree. Although, as my first marital home was Worcester House, I cannot claim it was sweet or charming!'

'Is the house very large?' Mary asked. 'When Charlotte stayed with you, she wrote and mentioned what a beautiful house it is.'

'It is beautiful,' Lady Susan conceded. 'But a museum may be beautiful without the merest hint of warmth. Worcester and I were very happy for the first year, quite content in the second and found ourselves quite distant by the third.'

For all their deep friendship, Lady Susan had not opened up to Charlotte about the nature of her marriage or her friendship with the eldest son of Farmer George. It was not the sort of conversation to have with an unmarried young lady, she had always supposed, even if they were quite unconventional.

Now, sitting a room away from Sidney Parker and across from his betrothed, she wondered for an unexpected moment, what such a life might really entail.

As if guessing her thoughts, Susan reached out to pat Charlotte's hand. 'I feel quite tired. I have had a most enjoyable evening but I fear this old lady hasn't the same energy as the young ones. Mrs Parker, would you forgive me if I took my leave?'

'Please,' Mary rose up. 'I would not have you stand on ceremony with us, Lady Susan. I will call for the carriage-'

'You are kind, but that is not necessary. I have one of my men waiting to escort me home.'

With further thanks and farewells given and received, Susan left and took with her the impetus for the evening. Consequently, it was only right that Mrs Campion took her leave almost as soon as the men rejoined them, and no one pleaded for her to remain.

*

Charlotte really did try to stay abovestairs. She paced the floor for a while, hoping for sleep to arrive. She tried to read a little, but did not want to waste the Parkers' candles. She lay in bed stretched out; she lay in bed curled up. Nothing could induce her to sleep, and the pain in her wrist was now a dull beat that demanded attention at all times.

So, she could not help but remove herself to the little library in search of distraction, remembering a moment too late that Sidney was also in the house and tended to be a light sleeper. She had grown used to him being out of the house at taverns, inns or wherever he went all night each night.

He was in the library nursing a snifter of brandy by the embers in the fireplace. Cravat loose, boots off, expression and posture low, he looked in a glum state. As he had not noticed her, she took the opportunity to watch a moment.

He was sad. She knew that. So was she, of course, but his sorrow seemed to run so much deeper. There was a profound disappointment in him that she simply did not possess, no matter how wretched she felt or how devastated by the loss of a hopeful future she was.

She moved, and a floorboard creaked, earning his attention. He sat up and began the immediate process of hiding every feeling he possessed. To think she'd once thought him insensible of feeling rather than just accomplished at concealing feeling.

'Charlotte! Why are you awake?'

'Because I cannot sleep.'

'Touché, Miss Heywood,' he raised his glass to her in salute. 'Does your wrist keep you awake?'

'Yes.' This was an easier answer than the whole truth. She took the chair opposite him, feeling the heat radiating from the dying fire. 'Why are you awake?'

'Because I cannot sleep.' He swirled his brandy in its glass, staring at it. The firelight warmed the brandy to a rich red-gold that hypnotised Charlotte as his hand moved the glass.

'Do you sleep, Sidney? You always seem so weary. I worry about you.'

'Not a great deal, in truth. I find my mind is uneasy for the most part and- no matter. We were speaking of you.'

'It is a minor sprain and I will be quite well, but I am tired of being treated as though I am made of glass.'

His gaze _burned. _'I do not think you are made of glass. Something much stronger than that, I am sure.'

He tipped his snifter up and drank down the whole measure in one go without flinching. Having put the glass down safely, he stood and loomed over her for a moment before sinking onto his knees.

With absolute gentleness, Sidney took her wrapped wrist in hand. He moved slowly to avoid aggravating the injury and unwrapped the bandage. 

'It is not tight enough,' he noted with a frown. 

When the bandage was unwound, he traced a line across her wrist with his fingertips. He looked very much as though he wanted to kiss the soft skin where her arm met her hand, but with a restraint that most would marvel at, he did not. He wound the bandage and proceeded to re-dress the joint. He tied it much tighter than expected, but she had to admit that the throbbing sensation was gone.

'Better?' he asked, voice barely even a whisper on the night air. He was so close that she could smell the brandy he'd drunk a moment ago and now it took all  _ her _ restraint not to kiss him.

Charlotte did not trust her voice, so she nodded, keeping her gaze fixed on him because she could not look away. 

He stood so abruptly that one of his knees clicked. He scowled but otherwise ignored it. 'I hope you sleep well soon, Miss Heywood.'

Sidney left the room and she heard him put on his coat and boots, then leave the house as quietly as he could manage.

Last year, Charlotte would have taken his sudden exit as an insult. She knew better now; knew that he was doing his best to keep under good regulation. In spite of herself, she hoped there was a boxing match somewhere in town for him to take out his feeling on. Otherwise, it would be his liver taking the punches.

Not that she was meant to know about his illegal fights or drinking. She was not meant to know anything much at all about Sidney Parker, but it was not  _ her _ fault that her ears pricked up at any mention of him, and not her fault that Tom and Mary talked about him in places where she could hear.

He was not her responsibility; he was not _allowed_ to be her responsibility, but Charlotte's heart could not help but worry about him. She would find a way to formulate a remark to Mary. Mary would be able to help.

*


	8. An Uneasy Night's Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by my own sleep issues this week, Mary Parker gets a point of view. I do believe she is the first and greatest of the Charlotte/Sidney shippers.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the fabulous comments so far - I really appreciate it!

Insomnia was apparently catching, for Mary Parker also found herself staring at the ceiling with her mind still awake and reeling.

For all her loveliness and gentle spirit, Mary was a sensible sort of woman. She had no choice in the matter, being the only child of a profoundly unsentimental man who lost any sense of affection when his wife and newborn son died in childbed.

She was fortunate, in fact, to have been in possession of two kindly aunts who taught her the importance of love and affection. So, young Mary grew up between the two worlds of cold pragmatism and warm devotion. It proved to be good practice for living with the Parkers.

Mary was some years Sidney Parker's senior and had been there when he suffered his great disappointment at the hands of Eliza Verrells, as was. She was one of the few people not directly related to him who knew him before and after Eliza, and before and after Antigua.

Mary did not like to speculate which experience shaped him more and supposed they had both left him changed in his essential character.

Had Charlotte left Sidney changed or had she helped him become his old self again? She was not sure, and they had not had enough time for the truth to reveal himself.

Mary could not think of the last summer without horror, shame and anger. Her own husband was ultimately responsible for what had happened to Sidney and Charlotte - even now he seemed oblivious to it - and could she say in honesty that much had changed since then? She could not.

She had been mightily relieved when Sidney had conjured business in Antigua to postpone the wedding. How Eliza had complained about wasted expense and effort! How Sidney had borne her anger with patience that Mary feared came from caring not at all.

The Parker-Campion wedding would bring nobody joy. Even Eliza, who Mary knew saw this as a victory, would soon come to regret it. Perhaps she already did, for it was an act of extreme foolishness to fling such pointed barbs at Lady Susan as she had earlier.

'Mary,' Tom mumbled. 'Why are you not sleeping?'

'I cannot. My mind is full.'

Tom groaned and fell back to sleep, leaving Mary waiting for time to pass and sleep to come.

It did not. She gave up as the clock downstairs chimed for one o'clock, and she padded downstairs in bare feet, her dressing gown clutched tight against the cold.

All was still, but for the steady breath of Charlotte, sat by the now-dead library fire. A brandy glass nearby indicated she had not been in the room alone at all times. A deep frown marred Charlotte's face even in sleep.

The injustice to Charlotte was hardly to be borne. Sidney had at least chosen to save his family (Mary was grateful but could not be happy), but Charlotte's entire future had been collateral for his decision. Mary's family had treated their guest very poorly, indeed.

Mary draped a blanket over Charlotte and moved into Tom's study. The model of Sanditon loomed large - she had a passing, powerful inkling to smash it into pieces.

Sidney's portrait caught her eye. He'd been so young and hopeful then. He had been precisely the gregarious, open-hearted sort of younger brother she'd wanted all her life. He'd understood what it meant to her to come from a family of no other children to the curious mix of Parkers, and he'd taken her under his wing.

Even after all went bad, he'd retained an affection for her, had been able to be close to his old self when it was just the two of them. She had so wanted him to find real happiness.

If she were honest, she'd thought of Charlotte as a good match for Sidney even when they first met in Willingden. She hadn't taken the thought into action, except insofar as she did not prevent them from interacting as might have been appropriate.

It was all too, too sad, and she had to stop thinking of it if only to keep herself sane. It was early, but with a few lit candles, Mary was well able to work through some of the documents waiting on the desk. In truth, it was easier to work now, without the children or Tom bothering her about one thing or another, without the housekeeper bringing news of more servants leaving for more lucrative short term engagements with tourists.

Mary entirely lost track of time and was startled when footsteps cut through her attention. Sidney stood in the doorway, recently returned from God knew where. His lower lip was split, and he had a gash above his right eye.

'Sidney!' she cried out, forgetting the hour and leaping up to her feet. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor. 'Whatever happened?'

He shrugged his coat off with a grimace and approached, pretending quite well that nothing was amiss. 'I was not paying attention as I should have.'

'Have you been fighting or was this a disagreement?'

'Oh, I won a tidy sum.'

She shooed him through to the drawing-room and pushed him gently down onto the settee. 'You will get yourself hurt one of these days.'

He leaned back and closed his eyes. 'That maybe.'

Mary sat next to him and took one of his hands - knuckles bashed but not blooded - someone had cleaned him up well. 'I wish I could soothe your pain, little brother.'

It had been their joke once upon a time; before Eliza, before Antigua, before children, before Charlotte, before Sanditon was Sanditon and it was refreshing to repeat it.

Sidney looked at her with such total anguish in his eyes that she could not help let several tears fall from her eyes.

'I could live with my own pain, Mary, but I cannot stand to see hers. I broke her heart, Mary. I did that to her, just as it was once done to me.'

Sidney slumped down, head in her lap and hands clutching at her like a little boy utterly lost to sorrow.

'I know, sweetheart.' She stroked his hair like he was one of her children to be comforted. 'If I could make it better for you, I would. But I fear there is nothing to be done.'

'Nothing,' he said, 'that is not vile or underhand. She is lost to me, and I am lost to... what have I? A wife I do not want?'

'You must try to be happy.'

'Charlotte said that. I did try, Mary, I promise I did try. But all I can see is what I am missing. We might be married by now, Charlotte and I.'

'I know. But you are not, and you cannot be, so you must resolve to find your happiness where it might be found. With Eliza.'

'She is not the Eliza I remember.'

'Nor are you the Sidney of her youth.'

'No, but she is... the beau monde has changed her. Hardened her. Or she was always such, and I was blinded by immature love. Love, or something else? I hardly know now. My mind is a mess, Mary. I feel am I going completely mad.'

'You loved Eliza then, Sidney. I was there; I remember. It was true, and I know she loved you then. I cannot account for what happened, but I do not think she lied to you about that.'

'And she married Campion anyway. Charlotte would never-'

'Charlotte has parents who love her. Eliza, as I recall, was not so blessed. We do not know why she did what she did, but do not make Eliza the devil. You will never be happy that way.'

'I will not be happy in any case,' he mumbled.

'Sidney.' Mary disliked how hard she sounded, but he needed to be told. 'You must do your best, or all you will have done is made three people unhappy.'

'Eliza did that. She didn't need to insist upon a marriage-'

'She could hardly just give you thousands of pounds!'

'All she needed was to become Tom's patron, his investor. She did not. I cannot tell you the particulars of the conversation but I assure you that this was the only choice with which I was left. I had a single week in which to save this family and-'

He fell silent. 'I am so angry. Even now. I have been to the West Indies and back and still I am so angry.'

'You are not married yet,' she said, quite out of the blue even for herself. 'Nothing is yet decided in the eyes of God.'

He sighed, still clutching at her. 'Would that I could run away and never come back here ever again.'

'You would miss the children. And me, I hope.'

'I would,' he conceded with an abrupt yawn. 'But I would tell you where I was and have you visit me.'

'If you disappear then, I will assume you've run off.'

'That, or I am dead in a ditch somewhere.'

'Don't say that! Take that back at once.'

'Forgive me. I take it back.'

Quiet then, between the two. Mary continued to stroke his hair, and after a minute or so, his breath evened out and after a moment there issued a soft snore. Despite his wretchedness, she smiled at the sight of big bad Sidney Parker finally finding a moment's peace.

She was fortunate indeed to be one of the very few people Sidney let see a more complex picture of his character. It was just a shame that one of the others was only a room and a million miles away, herself fast asleep.

With the stealth of a mother with many years' practice, Mary slid out from under the dead weight of slumbering Sidney. She pulled his boots off and used one of Henry's blankets to drape over him, lest he get cold in what was left of the night.

She could not leave both Charlotte and Sidney asleep downstairs in such a fashion, so Mary crept into the library and gently roused Charlotte just enough that they could walk upstairs. She nudged her young friend all the way to her bed, where Charlotte slipped quickly back to sleep.

Back in her own bed, Mary took a few deep breaths and was finally, finally able to seek her rest.

Tomorrow would be a long one.


	9. Just Not Cricket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the fab comments so far!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this - we finally get to the cricket match. What's the worst that could happen?

Some days passed without much excitement, until the morning of the cricket match. All were in great anticipation, and the morning was a hive of activity on the beach.

Last year had been a casual affair by comparison. At least twice as many people were present this year and the refreshment tent was busy long before the match was due to begin. The town bakers had been hard at work creating rich, intricately decorated cakes, scrumptious pastries and delightful treats; there was much beer, gallons of lemonade and cases of wine. 

Tom Parker was the proud centre of the activity, greeting all those with tickets for the temporary viewing pavilion, glad-handing those he felt most likely to promote Sanditon's interests in the longer term.

'Lady Susan!' he called out as that particular lady arrived. As usual, half a dozen other ladies followed, whether by invitation or by inviting themselves. 

Lady Susan bore with her a particularly beautiful blue parasol that matched the bright cobalt of her dress. She greeted Tom Parker with friendliness and allowed him to direct her to the pavilion in person.

'I am sure you will find the match highly diverting, Lady Susan!'

'I am sure to enjoy watching my dear friend, and I very much enjoy your dear wife's company, so I am certain you are correct, Mr Parker. But, do not remain here on my account; I am sure you need to prepare for the match yourself.'

Tom laughed as if Lady Susan had told a very great joke, bowed ostentatiously and then left in a hurry.

It was left to Mary to continue in a somewhat more considered manner. 'Lady Susan, how nice to see you. May I get you a glass of wine or cup of tea?'

'Tea in such warm weather sounds like just the ticket,' Susan said. 'Now, I insist that you sit with me and give me all the gossip about the teams.'

'Gossip, Lady Susan?'

'Of course. I find sport much more entertaining when one knows all the things bubbling under the surface. Come, tell all.'

Mary smiled wryly and led Lady Susan - and her followers - to the best seats in the pavilion.

*

There was plenty of entertainment to be had in the time before the match was due to start. The local musicians had taken up a position from where they played some very jolly tunes and Mr Jinks, the local butcher, had put together a good quality Punch and Judy Show that kept the children shrieking with laughter.

The gentlemen's (and one lady) team were about as ready as they could be, waiting in a tent at one end of the beach.

Like last year, they had matching waistcoats, including Charlotte, who wore hers over the lightest dress she had. They waited with no little anticipation.

'Good God,' said Crowe. 'I shall be bloody pleased when this is all over, and I can have a drink again.'

'Crowe!' Babington snapped. 'There is a lady present!'

'And once again, I remind you that Miss Heywood is on the team and must be considered as a gentleman for the duration.'

'I shall be a gentleman, and you shall be teetotal Mr Crowe?' she asked.

'Indeed, Miss Heywood. Is your wrist healed now? We cannot have any weakness on the team. Not after last year's mess.'

'I had forgotten how competitive you are,' said Babington. 'At school, Miss Heywood, Crowe once broke a bat in a rage because his team lost by three runs.'

'Two! It was two runs!' Crowe insisted, pacing a little. 'And it was you rascals who told me to curb my drinking. I was perfectly happy being soused permanently, but  _ you _ Babington insisted on going home early to your wife, and  _ you _ , Parker... well, I cannot fathom why you are so... changeable.'

Sidney glared and said nothing. He had remained as distant from Charlotte as was polite and intended to stay that way. Anything else felt too risky. He could not trust himself to be polite or proper, and so did his best to do nothing. He fiddled with the cricket ball, running his fingers over the stitches.

'Have the workers' team arrived yet?' he asked, squinting into the sun to look along the beach.'

Tom was the one to answer: 'Most. They are waiting for Stringer, who is travelling down from London.'

'Can that be permitted?' Sidney snapped, looking at Charlotte for her reaction to the name. 'He is no longer a Sanditon worker.'

'Oh come now, man,' Tom scoffed. 'James Stringer will always be an integral part of this town.'

'You didn't always speak so highly-'

'Gentlemen,' Babington interrupted, pointing along the beach. 'I do believe we are being summoned.'

The team made their way to the pitch, where the workers' team assembled around newly-arrived James Stringer. Very newly arrived - he still carried a travelling bag.

'Mr Stringer!' Charlotte called, waving eagerly. 

Mr Stringer smiled broadly and dropped his bag on the sand to greet her with a shake of the hand. 'Miss Heywood, I am glad to see you here! Robinson said you were back in Sanditon. An official member of the team, too.'

'I am so pleased you are here! Now it will be a true rematch. And I long to hear all the news of your apprenticeship!'

'We are here to play cricket!' Crowe barked. 'Not socialise like old ladies!'

Sidney was, at that moment, most grateful for his friend's ill-tempered sobriety. He was not jealous of Stringer - he knew that Charlotte loved  _ him _ \- but he was envious of the warm friendship she could share with Stringer that was out of bounds for  _ him _ .

He turned then towards the pavilion and sought out Eliza's face. Found, she waved at him when she saw him looking over. He waved back, first to her and then to Mary and the children.

Mr Hankins approached with the due solemnity of a member of the clergy and umpire combined. 'Shall we begin, gentlemen? And Miss Heywood.'

'Get on with it, man!' Crowe barked. 

The workers' team won the coin toss and chose to bat first. It was an unremarkable innings in which Mr Sidney Parker bowled most impressively, and the rest of the team were hardly less so. Alongside Crowe the wicket-keeper, it was short work to send the workers' team out with a handful of runs.

That said, the Stringer-Robinson combination was hardly less skilled, and the gentlemen's team was also out in its first innings with only a few runs to their name.

A break then followed, where the teams were plied with refreshments and allowed to get out of the sun.

Lady Susan was eager to greet her dear friend: 'Well played, Charlotte!'

'I only managed sixteen runs before I was caught out.'

'Sixteen very creditable runs,' Susan noted. 'Ah, this young man appears eager to speak to you, Charlotte. I shall leave you be for the moment. Mr Crowe, may I fetch you some lemonade?'

Charlotte turned to find both Stringer and Crowe there; the latter went with Lady Susan, and Stringer remained.

'I recall inviting you to play on our team,' said Stringer, eyes warm.

'The gentlemen had one advantage, Mr Stringer.'

'Aye?'

'They asked first.'

'I asked first!'

'You did not ask, you  _ hoped _ .' She grinned. 'You bowled overhand this time.'

'You were ready for it.'

'True.' Charlotte took a breath. 'I am glad to see you again. You look very well.'

'So do you, Miss Heywood. Have the months since we last met treated you well?'

She could not help the shadow that passed over her face and knew he saw it. 'I have been very busy at home. I have not been back in Sanditon for ever so long.'

'Busy? That is not as hopeful as I'd like for you, Miss.'

'No? It is simply... what it is. And you, Mr Stringer? Have you been... happy?'

'As much as I can be, I reckon. I miss my father something awful still.'

They stood in slightly awkward silence.

'He was a good man,' she said after silence became too much. 'I liked him very much.'

'He was a stubborn old fool. But, he was my father, and I loved him. Don't you worry about me, Miss, for I keep him with me in my thoughts.'

'I am glad. And how do you like London?'

'Not altogether. I grant there is much to see and do, but it is too noisy and dirty and reeking for my money. I would rather be here.'

'One day, I'm sure you will be able to return.'

'One day,' he agreed, as something caught his eye. 'That Mr Crowe is waving at you.'

'Oh! He probably wants to scold me for my poor playing. Again.'

'That's not kind towards a lady-'

'Ah,' she laughed, spinning on her heels to follow Crowe. 'As long as I am on the cricket team, I am no lady, but a gentleman!'

'That cannot be, Miss.'

She looked back at him. 'Why not?'

'I never saw any gentleman as pretty as you, Miss Heywood.'

Charlotte blushed all the way back to the team.

*

The second innings was, at first, as uneventful as the first. The teams were so evenly matched for skill that it was tough for either to take the upper hand.

Sidney's arm was tiring a little, but he still dispatched the workers' team with some skill.

As Mr Stringer stepped up to bat, Sidney trampled on the feeling that wanted to send the ball at his face. It would not be good form, and none of the mess was Stringer's fault. Stringer and Charlotte had always been friends, and even if Sidney was sure the man had a tendre for Charlotte, it did not mean she reciprocated.

He was determined not to be like other men he knew who treated their wives as possessions to be kept locked away. Charlotte was not, in any case, his wife.

He bowled cleanly, and Stringer hit beyond the boundary, taking a full over's runs. The second time, Stringer hit the ball and sent it at high speed towards Tom, who caught it clean and fair.

'Out!' yelled Mr Hankins. 'Your innings, gentlemen.'

The changeover from fielding to batting was quick. Arthur was first to bat and immediately hit the ball directly into the sear to score four runs. He hit the ball so ferociously each time - apparently trying to avoid exerting himself through actually making runs. 

In time enough, it was Charlotte's turn. Sidney wondered if Mr Stringer would bowl underarm again; he did not, but Charlotte was ready, and her bat slapped the ball into the midfield. She ran, her skirt swirling, only for the workers to fumble the ball. She made it back safely to the wicket. 

Stringer bowled again and Charlotte hit again. More runs. It became clear to Sidney that Stringer  _ was _ going easy on her. He was furious - Charlotte did not need anyone to patronise her. Still, he could do nothing except watch as Charlotte built up a good number of runs until the final ball, when Stringer bowled and caught the wicket behind her.

Charlotte left the field of play red-faced from her efforts, grinning from ear to ear. She was the most beautiful, most alive lady he knew and he forced him to sit like a statue until she was safely away from him, lest he leap up to embrace her.

Tom nudged him. 'Sidney, your turn!'

Facing Stringer, Sidney did his best to be pleasant. Then, the cricket ball whirled past, so close to his ear that he felt the air shift as it moved.

'Apologies, Mr Parker!' Stringer did not seem unduly apologetic.

The second ball was hard and fast and it was all Sidney could do to clip the thing. The third was as hard but he was at least able to hit it creditably far and squeeze out some runs, switching with Crowe as he did.

'Go steady, James!' he heard Robinson call out. 'You don't need to take his head off!'

Sidney instead thought that Stringer did need to, and he would not be altogether bothered by it himself.

Stringer bowled again. A moment's pause, then for Sidney, all went black.

*


	10. Uneasy Lies The Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the super comments so far! Let's see what happens. Sidney with a head injury - what's the worst that could happen?!

Sidney awoke in his bed at Trafalgar House and for the briefest moment, had no inkling that anything was wrong.

Then, two things happened: he could not remember how he came to be in bed; his head ached worse than he could remember.

A hand reached up to press a cold cloth to the bump on his head. He hissed in pain, realised he was not at all well... and fell back into the darkness with the grim little thought that oblivion had been what he wanted.

*

He slept then, fitfully and without much real rest. In the periods he awoke, Sidney tried to make out the sounds in the house around, above and below. Sometimes, he was sure he heard Eliza calling his name; other times he was sure he heard Charlotte. At one moment, he was sure he heard his mother, and that was when he knew something was awry. 

*

Sidney awoke properly hours later when the day was almost at an end. His head was sore but perhaps not very much worse than after a night's heavy drinking.

He sat up in bed and considered his surroundings. He was entirely alone, still dressed in his cricket clothes except for his shoes, which were by the door. The fire was low, burning deep orange in the grate.

The door opened to admit Mary carrying a bowl. 'Sidney, you're awake! How do you feel, poor dear?'

'Like I stopped a cricket ball with my head?'

'Poor Mr Stringer is devastated. He insisted we let him know when you are well enough to receive him so he can apologise in person.'

'Why did he throw a ball at my  _ head _ ?'

'Dr Fuchs looked him over - he has pulled a muscle in his shoulder very badly; the doctor says this is what caused the error.'

'Error.'

'Sidney, come now. It was an accident.' She pressed a cold damp cloth to the bump on his forehead. 'Dr Fuchs says it is just as well the ball caught you where it did. To the side and you might have been hurt far worse.'

'I have a very hard head, as you are fond of reminding me.'

Mary sent a wan smile at him for that, and he realised her worry was deeper than she allowed. 'Nevertheless, we were all so worried when you fell and didn't wake up. I've never seen Eliza run before, but she was at your side within a moment.'

'Really. Anyone else?'

'Sidney.'

'Forgive me, but-'

'Mr Crowe looked after Charlotte.'

'Good God, he'll have her drunk at the Denham Arms before-'

'Oh, shush. Mr Crowe brought her and the children back here.'

'Are the children well?'

'Dreadfully upset at Uncle Sidney being hurt but once Dr Fuchs said you just needed to rest, they settled down. I keep finding Jenny and Alicia trying to come in to sit with you.'

'They would be welcome.'

'You need to rest. In the morning, then they may be allowed.'

'I look forward to it. Did the doctor suggest there was any lasting damage?'

'Not that he could tell. I suppose we are stuck with you after all.'

'Aye, and I am stuck with you all.'

'You will stay in bed for at least two more days,' she said. 'Doctor's orders. No drink and only broth to eat.'

'I will go mad!'

'We will make sure you are entertained. And...' she hesitated. 'No more laudanum.'

He felt his heart and soul wither a little at old memories and the ever-present but usually-silent demon in his chest that screeched and clawed at his ribs to be given what it wanted. 'That is a good thing. I do not want it.'

'He administered it before I could stop him. Forgive me-'

'Nothing to forgive, sweet sister. I will be well enough in a few days. If I am not driven to insanity by boredom.'

Mary patted his hand, kissed the uninjured side of his forehead and then left him in peace.

*

Sidney's first visitors in the morning were the children. Jenny was ashen-faced until he smiled at her; Alicia cried when she told him about the incident as she recalled it. Henry thought it was a great lark and James was content to snuggle against his chest.

Into this scene came Charlotte, safe in the knowledge that nobody other than family would be about so early. If her features were a little pinched and her eyes heavy with a lack of sleep, he did not say so.

'Miss Heywood, good morning.'

'I am glad to see you are well, Mr Parker.'

'A little slow-headed today, perhaps.'

'How can you tell?' she joked.

He tried to smile but his head ached. 'Did we win?'

'We did. Mr Stringer was so upset by what happened that he conceded the whole match.'

'Crowe must be spitting feathers.'

'He is mostly concerned about you. Although he did mention something about the regatta.'

Sidney chuckled and leaned back against his pillows. 'I scared you. Forgive me.'

'Nothing to forgive. You did not choose to be struck.'

'Still, I...' he winced as a sharp pain caught him by surprise. Charlotte was at his side in a moment to help with the cold compress. 'Thank you.'

'Now, children,' she said. 'I think it's time we left Uncle Sidney to rest.'

They all of them objected, but Charlotte gently convinced them to move, going so far as to pluck James away from him and trade his chest for hers. She made, he thought, a delightful sight with a child in his arms.

She caught his stare and sent one back of her own. 'Mrs Campion said she would be here at the earliest possible moment to check on you. She was anxious about you.'

Sidney did not reply except to shiver at the cold feeling that ran immediately down his spine. He did not have long to wait for Eliza.

'I have been up all night! You scared me half to death, Sidney!'

'I had no intention of causing you upset, Eliza.'

'Oh, I know. It was that fellow, that shabby fellow! I swear, he did it on purpose!'

'I doubt that. James Stringer is a good sort of chap. Mary says he was injured, put his aim off.'

'Well, it caused quite a stir, you know.' She settled into the chair beside him in a rustle of silk, then took his hand in hers. 'Two ladies fainted!'

He did not bother replying to this. 

'I was dreadfully worried,' she said in a much smaller way. 'You looked... well, you looked dead at first.'

'I am not dead.'

'I know that now! When I first saw you... I really thought you might be dead, and how cruel it would be to be reunited with you after all these years only for you to- Oh, it would be too cruel.'

Perhaps it was his weakened state, but for the first time in many years, Sidney felt a sincere sympathy for Eliza. He had not been the only one whose promised future happiness was wrenched away with the Campion marriage. 

'Eliza,' he said, taking her hand in his. 'Forgive me. I would not be the cause of your misery for anything.'

'Oh, Sidney!'

'But I beg you to remember that the cause of our agony all those years ago... was you.'

Without a head injury, Sidney Parker would not have been so impolitic as to say what he felt. Sidney Parker had quite the head injury.

'That is unfair! You do not know what I went through!'

'No, because you said nothing. Nothing, until you announced you were to marry that man.'

'It was not- It was not my choice, Sidney! My parents insisted!'

'I remember your parents,' he replied. 'They were not harsh taskmasters ready to lock up a daughter to bend her to their will. Had they been, we might not have managed as much mischief as we did.'

'You weren't there...!' Eliza began to cry a little. 'Campion had  _ so much _ .'

'And I had  _ so little _ .'

'Marrying him meant my family would be safe, always.'

'I understand that. I can even respect it, as you know very well. Rather, you preyed on my sense of obligation to-' he stopped. Even concussed, he was not a total idiot. 'Forgive me. My head really is...'

'You are not well, Sidney. I will return when you are more yourself.' Eliza stood, dabbed and her eyes and moved to leave. 'Does that  _ girl _ come in here to look after you?'

'Girl?'

' _ Miss Heywood.' _

'I think Miss Heywood would rather set herself on fire than step into a man's bedroom. I have only seen her so far when she fetched the children.'

'Ah, the children. How fond of them she is.'

'Yes, she is.'

'I rather think she will end an old maid, that one. Too forthcoming with opinions and she certainly does have ideas far above her station. Good that she grows accustomed to looking after other ladies' children.'

'She is a gentlemen's daughter, Eliza.'

'What manner of gentleman? A rural farmer who, I hear, wouldn't travel to London if summoned by the King himself!'

'Eliza, you need not be so unkind about Miss Heywood. She is no threat to you.'

The look she threw him would have curdled the milk inside an entire herd of cows. 'Grant me some brains, Sidney. I could tell during that regatta that you were interested in her.'

Reader, at this juncture, it is absolutely necessary to recall that Sidney Parker had very lately suffered a head injury and given laudanum for the pain. While he may have considered himself to be clear-headed, his judgement on this matter was rendered imperfect by the very fact of his head injury. Therefore, he was not able to fully consider the consequences of what he was going to say before he said it.

'I was not  _ interested _ in her, Eliza.'

Sidney delivered this remark with such violence of feeling that for a moment, Eliza believed. And then, he continued: 'I was going to propose marriage to her. If Sir Edward Denham hadn't been such a flaming scoundrel, I would have been able to finish my question!'

'Sidney!'

'I cannot place a disproportionate share of blame on him, no matter what a snivelling, rapacious wretch he is. I should not have waited!'

The door had been appropriately left open while Eliza was present and so his shouts were easily heard. Mary rushed in.

'Sidney, dear, whatever is the matter?'

'It is all my own fault, Mary,' he began to calm as soon as she settled him back on his pillows. 'Forgive me?'

'I forgive you,' she replied, pushing him back down as he tried to sit up again. 'But you must rest. I don't think you realise how badly hurt you were. Now, rest. I'll ask Dr Fuchs to look in on you later.'

Mary now turned her attention to Eliza. 'We should leave him to rest.'

'Yes,' Eliza replied, quite shaken and a little paler than usual. 'We must.'

*


	11. The Start of a Beautiful Friendship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick one today......

Sidney half-expected the combined forces of Heaven and H--- to descend upon him for the cruelty he had inflicted upon Eliza. Once his disorientation and physical pain had ebbed, all that remained was exhaustion and shame.

He no longer  _ loved _ Eliza, but it did not follow that he wished to be consciously cruel towards her. He had spent the last eight months striving, in fact, to cultivate an air of casual indifference which could not be taken as inconsiderate or rude. All that effort, undone by one foolish speech. 

Part of him wished that this would prove the impetus for Eliza to call off their engagement, but he knew that was too much to hope for on the one hand and fatal to the family business on the other.

When he was well, he would beg forgiveness - he was used to that - and perhaps suggest bringing the date forward. He had already delayed too long, after all.

*

'Mr Parker.'

Sidney looked up. Two days after the accident, he was permitted to dress and go down to the sitting room - but no further. He tried reading the paper, but the print was small and sent his head aching. 

'Mr Parker.'

He looked up from the book he was reading to greet his guest. 'Mr Stringer.'

'May I have a moment of your time, sir?'

'I have nothing but time presently. Will you sit?'

'Thank you.' Stringer almost hovered in the seat opposite, as if wary of breaking the thing. 'I came to apologise-'

'It is of no matter,' Sidney interrupted. 'These things happen.'

'Aye, they do-'

'How is your shoulder?'

'Still sore. Dr Fuchs said it should be fine in a day or two.'

'Good, good.'

'I must apologise for-'

'For what, Mr Stringer? Did you intend to send a cricket ball hurtling with great velocity at my brain?'

'Course not!'

'Then, I cannot see that an apology is necessary.'

'But-' Stringer took a breath. 'Goddamn you, I  _ wanted _ to do it!'

Sidney had been lounging back in his seat but now sat up and could not help smirking just a little. 'Now that, Mr Stringer, is much more interesting.'

'I wouldn't have done it,' Stringer admitted, slumped in his seat. The guilt must have been weighing on him ever since the ball left his fingers. 'But I wanted to.'

'Why, pray?'

'You know why.'

'Do I?'

'For the way you have mistreated Miss Heywood, I'd see you beaten bloody.'

Sidney flexed his fist reflexively. 'It is a while since I've fought a truly worthy opponent. Might you be that man?'

'I do not box, Mr Parker.'

'So, shall it be cricket balls at dawn, then?'

'I cannot see how you can be so dispassionate-'

'I am not,' Sidney snapped. 'Do not mistake my mockery for lack of care. I suppose you think that I threw Charlotte over for easy money? For influence, or social position?'

'Well, yes!'

'Who do you think is paying for the rebuilding of  _ your _ terrace, Mr Stringer? It is not my feckless brother. You know his business sense, or lack of it, and you surely know it was not insured-'

'Not insured! By George, what idiocy-'

'You know my brother.'

Stringer regarded Sidney carefully, looking for the merest hint of untruth. 'That would have ruined him.'

'Yes, it would.' Sidney sank back into his seat, knowing he appeared the worst sort of libertine to a man like Stringer. 'But it has not.'

'No wonder Miss Heywood wouldn't hear a word said against you. Yet, I know she suffers acutely.'

'I am not unfamiliar with the feeling.'

Stringer stared openly now. 'Do you  _ love _ her, Mr Parker?'

'I cannot see how that is business of yours, Stringer.'

'I never thought you capable of it, but I can see it now. All I saw was how upset you always, always made her; how she forgave you every single time. I have been outrageously angry with you, and now I can see that nobody hates you more than you yourself do.'

'How insightful you are, Mr Stringer.'

Stringer shrugged. 'I could not help observe Miss Heywood. I believed we might share a mutual affection. I have not had a young lady ever pay me or my work such particular attention. Yet, I now realise that it is simply her way to be enthusiastic about things she considers interesting, and in her character to be kind and warm to anyone she considers a friend. It was... painful to see her lavish such affections on you-'

'I assure you, Mr Stringer, that until... well, I cannot say that it felt much like a lavishing of affections when she was setting me firmly in my place.'

Stringer snorted at that. 'Though she be but little, she is fierce.'

'Shakespeare?'

'Midsummer Night's Dream.'

'Fitting, I suppose.'

'In that play, all is well by the end of it.'

'This is life, not a play, Mr Stringer.'

'Tis true. I...' Sidney watched the other man search for the right way to express himself. 'I hope you find something like peace, Mr Parker.'

'So do I. In the meantime, and I know I've no right to ask...'

'Sir?'

'Will you look out for her? Be her... friend?'

'You do not need to ask me to do a thing I am already freely doing, Mr Parker. I will not confide in you, nor break her confidence to you. But, I give you my word that I will be the best friend to Miss Heywood that I can be.'

'I feel,' Sidney said, 'That a great weight has lifted from my shoulders. I am glad she has you.'

'Are you well, Mr Parker?'

'When I am fully well again, I owe you a drink, Mr Stringer.'

'What for?'

'Knocking some sense into me.'

'It was overdue.'

Sidney laughed and laughed at the sentiment and the look of horror on Stringer's face at having said it out loud.

'Well said, Mr Stringer. I feel we could be good friends, you know. That drink, I mean it.'

'Aye, when you're recovered, Parker. I'll let you rest now.'

'Yes, yes.' Sidney closed his eyes, took a deep and cleansing sigh, and slept.


	12. Three Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a few days since updating. Had a lot on at work and I hit a bit of a block with this one. I don't want to just blather on, which is the danger in stories like this, i think.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Charlotte had kept herself busy during Sidney's recuperation. She strove to occupy her mind with anything _but _the catastrophic possibilities that forced themselves into her mind; she also needed to avoid any appearance of impropriety.

The whispers had been greater in number than expected. She had not known how many people played observer to the strange and combative interactions that made up her brief (oh, so bloody brief!) courtship with Sidney Parker... until she returned and, without Sidney to distract her, saw the pitying and judgemental looks upon faces around the community.

Most people, she was sure, meant well. Others muttered comments about "_ideas above herself" _ and _"being too headstrong" _ and the like. At all times, Charlotte pulled a pleasant smile onto her face, and if it didn't reach the rest of her face, it didn't matter to anyone else.

There was still the matter of living in a house with Sidney. Why could he not stay at the hotel like last year? At least then he had merely been in and out of the house. Knowing he was a handful of rooms away set her nerves on edge.

On this particular day, during Sidney's convalescence, Charlotte took the Parker children and their nurse to the beach. The weather was warm but not too much so, and the children were happy to amuse themselves once they arrived on the golden sands.

Charlotte settled herself on a blanket with the nurse, who saw particularly to little James. 

'Watch this, Charlotte!' Alicia called. Charlotte looked up in time to see Alicia leapfrog over Jenny.

'Well done!' she called back as Henry took his turn. He stumbled but gamely jumped up and tried again without complaint. 'Try again, Henry!'

'You try, Charlotte!' Jenny said from her position crouched on the sand. 

'Oh no,' she called back. 'I am not made for jumping up and down!'

The response was unanimous: 'Please?'

Charlotte sighed, stood and made a very brief show of trying and failing to jump. She was perfectly able, of course, but leaping around seemed a little too improper.

They moved onto other games that Charlotte oversaw. Jenny won the running race, but Henry was better at running away from waves. 

It was a lovely morning, and then Mrs Campion appeared. She was as elegant as ever, wielding a blue parasol like it was a weapon.

Charlotte called out to her, determined to be polite and kind: 'Good morning, Mrs Campion!'

'Well met, Miss Heywood. And children, how lovely.'

The Parker children did not respond to Mrs Campion with warmth, but Jenny remembered to bob and wish her good morning before they tore off towards the water again, leaving the two ladies alone.

'You look well, Miss Heywood,' Mrs Campion remarked. 'I thought you might be weary.'

'Really, Mrs Campion? I cannot fathom why.'

'Only that it is tiring to have an invalid in the house, caring for them throughout the night and day.'

'I would not say Mr Parker is an _invalid_, but his care has not fallen to me in any case, so I cannot claim any kind of inconvenience.'

'Really? I had imagined you to be the sort of young lady who insists on being a _help_.'

'I am the Parkers' friend and guest, Mrs Campion. If I play with the children, it is because I enjoy their company. If I help Tom with Sanditon matters, it is because I enjoy it.'

'And would you not enjoy playing nursemaid to Sidney?'

'I would rather Mr Parker was in good health, of course.'

Eliza Campion fixed Charlotte with a gimlet eye. 'Why do we not speak plainly, Miss Heywood?'

'I wish you would.'

'He is not yours, Miss Heywood.'

'You say that as though I am unaware of the fact. I suppose it is fair to say Mr Parker and I are friends, I will speak plainly, as you have: I have no expectation that Mr Parker and I are or ever will be anything but friends. I cannot even wish for it without surrendering my integrity and honour, and I assure you, that I will not do.' Charlotte's hands trembled and she hated the tremor in her voice as she finished speaking. 'Let me be plainer still, Mrs Campion: you won. I cannot give you cause to fear me or dislike me. You _won_.'

She turned then to the children, still distant by the water's edge. 'I think it must be time to return home, children!'

They protested a little but were soon at her side.

'You are all in great need of a bath! I think Mama will not let me bring you here again when she sees you.' It was a joke between them and the children wailed theatrically in objection.

Henry clutched at her. 'No! Not that!'

'We must return to the house,' said Charlotte. 'Good day to you, Mrs Campion.'

'Good day, Miss Heywood.'

*

A full week after the cricket match, Sidney dressed and walked down to the Denham Arms, where Crowe was waiting for him. The latter had ceased his brief sobriety and looked much more himself as he lounged sleepily in a chair, brandy in hand.

'Good god,' said Crowe upon seeing Sidney take a chair at the table. 'You look dreadful.'

Sidney grabbed the bottle from him. 'I am told I very nearly died, so looking dreadful may be the best outcome.'

Crowe scoffed. 'Nearly died? My foot. You just got a knock on the head. The way all those simpering women reacted, one would think you had your whole skull caved in. And that Stringer fellow all but threw himself on your funeral pyre. Really, fools all.'

Sidney drew a long glass of brandy and tipped it back in one, relishing the rich burn on the back of his throat and the warming, deadening effect on his blood.

‘Thank god, man,’ said Crowe. ‘I am glad to see you return to your normal behaviour at long last. You have not been fun at all since last year.’

‘Oh, do forgive me for limiting your entertainment, Crowe.'

'It has not been altogether dull. The cricket was diverting enough, I suppose. That Miss Heywood is quite extraordinary. Reminds me of some of the ladies at home. Spinsters, all, and very grateful for-'

'Do not finish that sentence, Crowe.'

Crowe rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle back. 'Still no fun. What happened to you, man?'

Sidney sighed. He had been far franker with Babington about his situation than he had with Crowe, who could not be trusted to be discreet when in his cups. 'This last year has been... unhappy.'

‘Unhappy?’ Crowe snorted a loud, phlegmatic laugh as he emptied the last of the brandy into his glass. ‘How catastrophic to marry a rich and beautiful woman.’

‘You do not know what you’re talking about.’

Crowe reclined further in his seat and once again waved the innkeeper over for more libations. ‘Of course I do. You were distressed about losing the possibility of taking Miss Heywood.’

Sidney’s hand gripped his glass so hard that the crystal grew warm and then cracked a little. ‘Watch yourself, Crowe.'

‘It was obvious. She was young and well yes, she's very pretty, I suppose. An opportunity lost for now, but really what is there to stop you-‘

For the second time in recent memory, Sidney Parker hit someone close to him and did not even remember the moment in which his overtaxed brain made a choice.

Crowe fell back in the chair, which splintered into large chunks of old wood. He skidded a little across the stone floor. He wore an expression mixed between shock and betrayal. What did Crowe have to feel betrayed about?

The innkeeper took one look at them and pointed at the door. ‘Out. Both of you.’

Sidney dropped a few coins onto the table to cover the cost of a new chair. ‘My apologies.’

‘Sod your apologies. Just get out.’

He did, with no consideration of Crowe. 

As had been his habit of late, Sidney walked. The town was busier than ever and the night still young, so he was greeted by all sorts of London folk with whom he was only faintly acquainted. None had ever been much interested in his grim, badly behaved and cynical person, but as one of the men behind this new resort, they were eager to speak to him.

‘The wife was saying earlier than a theatre would be just the ticket! And really, you could build a tidal pool for swimming - that little cove ought to do nicely. Just a bit of construction to do. Did I mention I’m in the very trade-‘

‘Goodnight, I really must be on my way.’ Sidney did not look back to see if the man was affronted or confused.

The cove had been his first goal, but the area was busy with society sorts looking for discreet rendezvous, and in the end, he turned back to town and Trafalgar House.

As he walked, he saw the light still on at 1 Waterloo Terrace. Eliza was still awake. He hesitated, weighing up the wisdom of meeting her while in this state or not. She might be so disgusted that she called the engagement to a halt. It was tempting but unlikely, so he continued along.

None of the residents of Trafalgar House was awake when he arrived, and he was obliged to go around to the servants' entrance for the night watchman to let him in. The lad was snoozing lightly, and Sidney had no thought to admonish him.

‘Need some tea, sir?’ He asked through a yawn.

‘Brandy. Bring it to the library, if you would.’

The library at Trafalgar House did not yet deserve that grand title but it undoubtedly would one day. For now, it was a large room with many shelves and a few books. It suited Sidney’s purpose, which was to continue drinking in solitude near a warm fire.

‘Mr Parker?’ The voice called out to him like a siren's call, a soft sound conjured from the deepest part of his soul.

He let out a groaned expletive, then: ‘Am I to have no peace from you? Are you a demon sent to test me? Or an angel sent to soothe me? In any case, leave me be. Just for once, be merciful!’

Charlotte emerged from the shadow in the doorway, frowning and shivering in the cold air. ‘I am no demon or angel, Sidney. Just... me.'

He sat up. Horrified. ‘I'm not imagining you.'

‘You are not.’

‘Why are you even about?’

‘I could not sleep, so I heard the almighty row you made of returning home.’

Hearing Charlotte Heywood refer to their shared lodging as “home” sent such pain through his soul that they manifested in a physical spasm in his heart.

‘Are you well, sir?’

‘Do not _sir_ me, Charlotte.’

‘I feel I must. There is a distinction that we must maintain, regardless of how either of us might feel.’

‘How do you feel, Charlotte? I suppose I have not asked you. I have made my assumptions but-‘

‘I have rubbed off on you then.’

She meant it as an innocent joke, but he could not take it as such, and he groaned again. ‘You are fit to drive me mad!’

’I don't mean to be.’ She looked away from him and appeared to be on the verge of sobbing. Again.

’And now I have made you cry. I am not fit to be in your company, dearest-’

She scowled, turned on her heels and walked out. Sidney fell asleep in the chair with a sense that he made a rather big mistake.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think Crowe's sobriety would last? Sorry. Fellow like that must have a damned good reason not to drink, I think.


	13. Gently Down The Stream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay with this one - I've been a bit stuck with it, which is why I think I got the *other* idea as a distraction.
> 
> Thanks for all the awesome comments - i really appreciate them so much in this dumpster fire that is 2019.

Sidney awoke in the early hours, just in time to shuffle up to his room and avoid the ignominy of being found. He slept a little longer and then awoke again with the very real sense that he owed several apologies.

Not necessarily to Crowe, whose words were insulting, but to the landlord, to the people he saw, and to Charlotte.

'Ah, Sidney!' Tom caught him just as he was leaving the house, just after midday. 'Are you coming to the river, then?'

'The river?'

'For our rowing practice, old boy! We must be victorious this year!'

The idea of physical exertion made him feel sick, but Tom was not to be dissuaded.

Instead of Arthur waiting for them at the riverside, there was Miss Heywood. Of course.

The memory of the last time he'd been in a boat with her threatened to overwhelm him: her soft, warm hands under his; the thrilling possibility of a _ future _with her-

Her voice cut through his reverie: 'Are you well, Mr Parker?'

'Quite well, thank you, Miss Heywood. You are not Arthur.'

'No, indeed! Arthur sends his apologies, but he is feeling under the weather today and asked if I might cox in his stead today.'

'Splendid idea!' Tom crowed. 'You are much lighter than Arthur.'

Sidney's rational self was not altogether convinced he should be clambering into a boat with Charlotte but the rest of him quite overpowered that sense with rationalisations mostly relating to Tom's position between them.

It was remarkably, surprisingly easy to focus on rowing instead of Charlotte. All he had to do was focus on her voice calling out instructions and on the burn in his shoulders, back and arms as he pulled the oars through the water.

They rowed the length of the race twice and upon their return to the start, found Babington, Crowe and Mr Ashton readying their own craft.

'Whatever happened, Mr Crowe?' Charlotte called out, alarmed, and Sidney realised she'd seen his face. It was black and blue around one eye and his bottom lip was fatter than usual.

Crowe waved a dismissive hand, then held it out to help Charlotte out of the boat. 'Nothing of consequence, Miss Heywood.'

'Have you seen Dr Fuchs?' she asked.

'To what end? This is hardly the first time I find myself a little bruised.'

'Are you here to row, gentlemen?' Tom asked. 'I assure you, your efforts will be in vain, for we are determined to win!'

'That may be,' Babington replied mildly. 'But it does not follow we will make it easy for you!'

'And you, Miss Heywood,' Crowe asked, looking between Sidney and the lady. 'Are you determined to become a gentleman entirely?'

'No, Mr Crowe.' She blushed. 'Just lending a hand while Arthur is unwell.'

'Well,' he replied, smirking over her head to Sidney. 'If you do wish to continue in these gentlemanly pursuits, I am happy to lend you my assistance.'

It was intended to bait him. He knew it. With a deep breath, he spoke: 'Crowe, I do beg you to recall that Miss Heywood is a lady.'

'Miss Heywood is far too beautiful for anyone to mistake her for anything else.' Crowe bowed to her and Sidney remembered that the sober Crowe was more than capable of superlative charm. That was how his much younger self had found a certain amount of trouble with several young ladies while still at Eton, which had led to every other sort of trouble.

Charlotte blushed a little more but mostly chose laughter. 'A young lady I maybe, but _ I _beg you to spare me from empty flattery. I cannot make use of it.'

'Ever practical, our Charlotte!' Tom laughed. 'Now, we are due to meet Mary and the children on the beach for games and larks. Good day to you, gentlemen.'

Sidney hesitated, thinking it might be safer to remain with Babington and Crowe. 'I'll remain here.'

'Helping the enemy, eh?' Tom joked. 'Will you dine with us this evening? You are all invited, of course.'

'I must get home to my beautiful wife,' Babington replied. 'But, thank you for the invitation.'

'I accept,' Crowe replied, looking in Charlotte's direction. 'Good food and excellent company are always welcome.'

Charlotte and Tom left then, having extracted dining promises, and Sidney was left with Crowe and Babington.

Babington stared them both down. 'Are you two fools going to shake on it and be done?'

'I ought not to have said what I said,' Crowe conceded with only a little hesitance in his slightly-gritted teeth. 'I did not fully comprehend the scale or depth of your... feeling. Babington has made it clear now. Forgive me, Parker.'

'I ought not to have hit you.'

They shook hands. Babington beamed at them, pleased and proud of his friends.

'Still,' said Crowe. 'It was an impressive jab. I didn't see it coming.'

'You are not the first person I've hit recently.'

'Who?'

'Tom.'

'Do tell.'

There is a commonly held notion that men have no time for gossip or chitter-chatter. Reader, you ought to know that this is a misconception and there is nobody like a young man for gossip when the mood strikes him. The Parker-Babington-Crowe triumvirate found then on that sunny afternoon that the mood had very much struck and they spent more than an hour engaged in conversation about Sidney, Charlotte, Eliza and other related gossip.

When Babington returned home to Esther, full of this gossip, she teased him mercilessly before extracting the lot from him.

'That is a mess,' she agreed. 

'He is so unhappy,' Babington said. 'I had not realised how deep it ran. It is worse even than when Eliza first threw him over. I know there is nothing to be done but... I wish there were.'

'Well,' Esther shifted to find a comfortable sitting position and grimaced at her failure. 'I must believe that there is a way through. After all, if _ I _am able to find happiness - the greatest kind - then it must be possible for them. They are not half-so-terrible as I have been.'

'Now,' Babington shushed her with a light kiss. 'None of that, Lady B. You are neither so terrible nor undeserving of love as that. I should not have married you otherwise, and I am certain I remember doing that.'

*

At Trafalgar House, Charlotte ended another day feeling drained. Being in a boat with Sidney left her hands burning with memories and spending the evening trying to make polite conversation was a strain. At least Mr Crowe had ceased his strange attempts at what had seemed to be flirtation.

How odd was it that she felt more at home in Sanditon than any other place, even Willingden now, and yet wanted to be anywhere _ but. _She was tired of pretending to be fine, tired of being stared at and pitied by people who had no real understanding of what had occurred. 

In the dark of night, she gave in to her darkest impulses and allowed herself to consider what might happen if she hit Mrs Campion as someone had evidently socked Crowe. What would happen if she said _ to hell with it all _ and just took what she wanted? What would be the worst that would happen? The worst, except for total ruination, which is what would certainly happen. Young ladies did not recover from these kinds of things. 

She would never, but in the dark of night, Charlotte allowed herself a brief dream of what _ might _ happen. Nobody would expect it of her and she never would, but _ what if _?

*


	14. Merrily Down The Stream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thanks for all the super comments!

Lord and Lady Babington's son Nathaniel was born four days before the Sanditon Regatta. He was a hale and hearty young chap with a smattering of fiery hair that made his father grin like a fool.

Little Nat Babington's great-aunt was reported to have  _ giggled _ at the moment she first held him in her arms, but as this was so outside her usual character, nobody quite believed it. 

Lord Babington visited Trafalgar House where Tom Parker plied him with best brandy and cigars, and they sat with Sidney and Crowe to toast the safe arrival of the new heir.

'To Nathaniel Babington!' Tom boomed, waving his snifter. His companions echoed his sentiments with a little less exuberance. 

'What's he like, Babbers?' Crowe asked.

'Small. So  _ small _ . And,' Babington here tried and failed to stop tears leaking from his eyes. 'Really the most beautiful person I've ever set eyes upon, except his mother, of course.'

'Is Lady B well?' Tom asked. 'I know Mary suffered quite badly during the last delivery.'

'She is,' Babington confirmed. 'Already demanding to know when she will be allowed to get up and about. We will have you all to Sanditon House soon to see them both.'

*

Charlotte and Mary were the earliest visitors to Esther and Nathaniel, invited a week after the new lordling's birth.

Esther was still in bed but dressed in the most elegant post-natal fashions with her hair done and looking very well, if a little tired.

The nurse brought Nathaniel to them, and after Mary was introduced to him, he was handed to Charlotte.

Charlotte was the eldest daughter in a family of 14 children and was well-used to holding babes. Yet, as she held her friend's son, a new and strange emotion bubbled up from the pit of her stomach.

It felt, if she was honest, a little bit like envy. Still, he was an enchanting little thing, and she smiled down as he sleepily blinked up at her.

'He is lovely,' she told Esther. 'Really lovely. He looks like Lord Babington except for the eyes, which are all yours.'

'And the hair,' Esther said with a fond smile. 'Babs is pleased about that. He was hoping the red hair would come through.'

They sat and talked amiably for some time about children generally and Nathaniel specifically. Mary had some pieces of good advice that comes from being an experienced mother herself, and all was well. She then excused herself for a moment, and as soon as they were alone, Esther turned her sharp blue eyes on Charlotte.

'So, Charlotte.'

'Yes?'

'What are we going to do about Mrs Campion?'

Charlotte's grip on Nathaniel tightened unconsciously, and he objected. She released the hold and soothed him a moment. 'Do about Mrs Campion? I cannot account-'

'Come now,' Esther said sharply, but without malice. 'I know you are suffering. I've seen you, and even if I had not, Babington has told me how Sidney fares. So, what are we going to do about Mrs Campion?'

'There is nothing to be done. Nothing honourable or decent,' Charlotte conceded.

A smirk blossomed on Esther Babington's tired face, and she leaned back onto her pillows. 'Oh my dear Charlotte, that is what you have me for.  _ You _ may be honourable and decent, but I have never claimed anything of the sort.'

'Esther...'

'You are unhappy, Charlotte. I don't claim us as bosom friends, but I can see it, and I will not have it. I might not be able to get up, but I can scheme from my bed, and I have nothing much else to do.'

'Please, do not.' Charlotte blinked a couple of times. 'I could not bear for this to affect Tom and Mary, or Sanditon. She... she has money, Esther.'

'She does, but the terrace is rebuilt, and there are other people with money.'

'A broken engagement would be a scandal.'

'What's a little scandal compared to a lifetime of happiness and contentment, Charlotte?'

'It would not be a  _ little  _ scandal. She might choose to make it a very  _ large _ scandal that would affect all the Parkers. I cannot and will not have that. I am resigned to my fate and all will be well.'

Esther made such a noise at this point that one must reasonably assume that it took the place of such words as were not used in polite company. 'You're a naive little thing. I always forget.'

'I am not naive,' Charlotte disagreed, shaking her head firmly. 'I am simply trying to be good.'

'Same difference, same outcome. What are you afraid of, Charlotte?'

'Afraid?'

'Yes, afraid. I can only surmise that you fear a good outcome for yourself. Afraid that he might not love you after all? Afraid that he would pick Eliza blasted Campion after all?'

This, it must be said, cut Charlotte to the absolute quick. On a rational, intellectual level, she knew not to be afraid of such. Sidney suffered along with her, and she was not in doubt of his love. Yet - and yet! - the words so seemingly casually thrown around by Esther tore at her heart.

Charlotte handed the boy back to his mother so that she could leap up and go to the window, where she could stare out and not face Esther as tears rolled down her face. 

Rational, intellectual thoughts were nothing to the deep-buried self-doubt and fear she worked to ignore.

'She's very elegant, and she was his first love,' she whispered.

'That might be true, but you are younger and fresher and so much  _ nicer.  _ She should be afraid of you. If she isn't, she's fit only for Bedlam.'

Charlotte laughed a little at Esther's brutal assessment, and shared with her the contents of the conversations she'd had with Mrs Campion at the ball and later on the beach.

Esther's eyes  _ glittered _ with planned mischief. 'She is afraid of you!'

'I don't want her to be afraid of me! I want this all  _ done with _ ! I want to dispense with my sorrow. I want Sidney to be  _ happy _ , Esther. I cannot take any joy in his misery.'

'Then, we must arrange for their engagement to end without repercussions for you or Sidney or the Parkers. It cannot be beyond the wit of you, I and our friends.'

'No. No scheming. If it was a success, how could I live a life knowing that it was built on lies and schemes and intrigues?'

'My dear, who said anything about lying? If I've learnt anything at all in my life, it's that lies are not necessary when the truth is so much, much more painful.'

Mary returned then. If she noticed Charlotte's anguished expression or the tension in the room, she did not say. They only remained a little longer to coo over Nathaniel before taking their leave.

The weather was still fine, so they walked home along the cliff path.

'Why did you invite me back to Sanditon?' Charlotte asked Mary.

'Well, you are one of the people most dear to me in the world. We missed you. And I suppose I wanted to make things right after last year. I hadn't expected Sidney to arrive so soon after you, or to stay as he has. I suppose we have Eliza Campion to thank for that.'

'Do you like Mrs Campion?'

'I was there when she broke Sidney's heart the first time... I cannot like her for that. I do my best to be pleasant to her, but I cannot trust her. Really Charlotte, I cannot explain the depths of despair he reached.' Mary paused then. 'Although, I think perhaps he is unhappier now.'

'That is not a consolation!' Charlotte retorted hotly, picking up her pace. 'Why does everyone think I would take it as a compliment that he is sadder about me than her? I do not want him to be unhappy!'

'Everyone, Charlotte?'

Charlotte briefly recounted her conversation with Esther. Mary tried very hard not to laugh or smile but did not succeed.

'It is not funny!'

'It is a  _ little _ funny, Charlotte dear. Just in that... well, I don't think  _ anyone _ wants Sidney to marry Eliza  _ except _ Eliza.'

'I would rather people did not have opinions about something that cannot be undone.'

'No,' Mary sobered then. 'You are correct. Forgive me.'

'Of course.' Charlotte stopped walking. 'I would sometimes like to remake the world entirely. To have never even come to Sanditon, even.'

'Do you mean that?'

'No, not in truth. But... it would have been easier to pass my life in Willingden and never have known... never... a life without love is surely less painful than a life where it has been wrenched away?'

'No,' Mary replied softly. 'That cannot be true. Would you prefer to live that way?'

'Sometimes, I think so. Sometimes, when people look at me with pity; when I feel so wretched that I could put my fist through a window or walk into the sea; when I see that Sidney, who did nothing wrong, suffer so. Sometimes, I would rather he forgot me entirely.'

'You are too noble, Charlotte. You speak of his suffering, but really, what of yours? What can we do to soothe you?'

'There is nothing! There is nothing to be done except let time heal whatever wounds as it may. I am sure in a month or two months, or a year or two, this will all seem very silly.'

If Mary thought Charlotte was lying to herself, she did not say. Mary Parker, you see, was well acquainted with seeing and thinking, but not speaking aloud.

*

The morning of the Regatta was warm and sunny in the best way. The tents and gazebos were erected on the riverbank where required, and provisions set up in their multitudes.

The small market was set up again with local shopkeepers and vendors selling their wares.

Guests and tourists flocked to the tents and money exchanged hands at an excellent rate as far as the shopkeepers were concerned.

Lady Susan had been in Brighton for some time but returned in time for the Regatta. She found Charlotte at the river's edge where the boats were ready.

'Dear Charlotte!'

'Susan!'

They exchanged pleasantries briefly, then Susan grilled Charlotte on the goings-on in Sanditon. As usual, Charlotte shared readily, giving Susan the details of her further conversation with Mrs Campion and those with Mary and Esther.

'I think your friends are very wise,' Susan said. 'But I also agree that there is no easy resolution to be found. However, I do not suppose that an easy resolution is half so fun as a complicated one.'

Charlotte laughed a little, having regained some humour since her walk on the cliffs with Mary. It was all very silly when one really thought about it.

They walked back towards the main site of activity where a good-sized crowd had assembled. Refreshments were acquired, and they sat together under a parasol near the water.

'Lady Susan!' Mrs Campion's voice cut across the noise around about.

'Mrs Campion, well met.' Susan's smile did not meet her nose, let alone her eyes.

'Sanditon has missed you, I am sure.'

'I have missed Sanditon. Especially my dear, dear Charlotte.'

Eliza's expression tightened as she was obliged to greet Charlotte. "Miss Heywood.'

'Mrs Campion. You look very well today.' 

This was true. Mrs Campion wore the latest fashion in a bright blue that was most becoming on her. Regardless of Charlotte's feelings for her, she would not deny that Eliza Campion was beautiful.

'Have you seen Sidney or any of the other Parkers?' Eliza asked. 'I would like to wish them luck before the race.'

Charlotte shook her head. 'I have been busy helping here and have not seen anyone since breakfast.'

She was unsure what test Mrs Campion was trying to make her attempt, but she would not be drawn into bickering, no matter how much she might find some perverse pleasure in it.

'Mrs Campion, you must tell me where you are shopping these days. That dress is  _ divine.' _ Susan charge of the conversation and even a disinterested bystander would note the edge in her tone.

Eliza preened a little, not noticing or not caring about Susan's manner. 'Oh, a modiste in London. Very exclusive, but of course if you would like her name, I'm sure Madame Sabine would be glad to have an illustrious lady such as you as a client.'

'I was not thinking of myself, particularly,' Susan said. 'Charlotte will be visiting with me after the summer, and I know my style is not at all to her tastes!'

The thought of Charlotte Heywood patronising the same modiste turned Eliza's smile  _ sour _ . 'I do not believe she is taking new clients presently.'

'It is for the best,' Susan replied amiably. 'I'm sure Charlotte would prefer something less matronly than either you or I would wear.'

Eliza went very red, then pale and found an excuse to leave the conversation.

'Good riddance,' Susan said. 'I've been waiting to return the favour after her remarks during dinner at Trafalgar House.'

'That was several weeks ago!'

'And revenge is always best served cold, my dear Charlotte.' Susan took an offered glass of champagne. 'Trust me.'

'I do. It is just that-' The church bells rang for midday. 'I am supposed to see that all the competitors are arrived and well. Do you mind very much if I leave you?'

'I will be fine, Charlotte. I spy Mary Parker across the way and I will happily chatter with her for hours. Go, my dear.'

Charlotte did just that. She checked in with Lord Babington and his crew of Crowe and Mr Ashton first. The former was full of news of Nathaniel, the latter both rather wished he would shut up and get on with the business of rowing.

Her second stop was with the Sanditon Shopkeepers' Association crew: Edwards the baker, Miller the grocer and Dempsey the farrier. They were polite and deferential as her status as a gentleman's daughter obliged.

Her third visit was with James Stringer and his mob. They greeted her warmly and made jokes about bribing her to nobble their rivals.

'I could not possibly, Mr Robinson,' she said with mock-hauteur surely inspired by Lady Denham. 'And certainly not for a mere shilling.'

'Aye,' James was already in their boat, sleeves rolled up and otherwise ready to go. 'We will have to cobble together more than a shilling.'

'You're the London apprentice, James,' said Robinson. 'So we'll look to you for funds.'

'Then alas, we'll have to depend on our own abilities.'

'And won't that be so much more satisfying?' Charlotte asked.

'Perhaps,' Robinson replied. 'But much harder work.'

She bid them farewell and finally, finally took herself to the fourth and final team: the Parkers. The memory of last year burned in her chest, leaving her short of breath.

God, being the kind of superior being determined to see her set ill at ease, had ensured that of all the possible Parkers present at their boat, there was only one.

She kept her distance as Sidney fussed around with oars just as he had last year, except this time he was most certainly making work for himself than trying to engage her in dialogue.

'Where are your brothers, Mr Parker?'

His shoulders shot up almost to his ears at the sound her voice. Slowly, he turned to face her. 'Tom is gladhanding as usual; Arthur, I would venture, is being harangued by Diana as regards his ability to take part.'

'As long as you are all ready.'

'We are.'

'Do you intend to win this year?'

'We do, I suppose.'

'What are races for, if not to win?' she asked lightly.'

'True.' He sighed. 'Georgiana wrote to me yesterday. She is coming down in a week or two.'

'I am glad. I long to see her. Will she stay at Mrs Griffiths?'

'God, no. Mary says she is welcome at Trafalgar House. My days of palming her off onto paid strangers is quite over.'

'I am glad.'

'Miss Heywood, I must- that is, I beg your forgiveness, once again, for my ill-mannered conduct the other- recently, that is. I would not cause you harm for anything and yet it is all I seem able to do of late.'

'You owe me no apology, Mr Parker. It is... it is what it is.'

'You are a deal more forgiving than I, Miss Heywood.'

'I have had more cause to practice the art, Mr Parker. I have not had the same trials and tribulations as you. I am as sheltered and inexperienced as you said all those months ago, and I think it must allow me to see the best in people.'

'I am glad of that, for myself.' Sidney picked up another set of oars and shifted them into the boat. 'I suppose you-'

'Yes?'

'Never mind.'

'What?'

'I was going to joke about needing a second in the boat, but it would be in poor taste.'

'It would.' She nodded solemnly but then thought of all her dark thoughts and of her conversations with Mary and Esther. 'But if you were able to ask- well, I would like nothing more.'

He nodded and stared down at his feet. 'That should not bring me solace, but it does. Forgive me.'

'I suspect, Mr Parker, that I will always find it in my heart to forgive you.'

His eyes shot up to meet hers and for a moment all was well between them and nothing was sad or bad or tragic.

It was then that Arthur and Tom appeared, bounding down the hill towards them. The moment was gone, but both found themselves comforted by it.


	15. Row, Row, Row Your Boat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the super comments - you guys are fabuloso indeed!
> 
> More Brief Visit to come, but I wanted to get this out of the way first. I sat down in Starbucks just after 2pm and it's nearly 6pm now and I'm wicked tired... back to work now though! So, any mistakes I'll fix later.

Charlotte's quiet declaration was the most considerable boost to Sidney's energy for almost longer than he could remember. He did not expect anything to come of it, but to know that she was still in love with him was surprisingly, almost shockingly, enervating. 

'Come along!' he bellowed to his brothers as they meandered down the side of the hill.

'There is no rush, Sidney,' Tom replied, all amiability. 'Unless you intend to win by starting the race twenty minutes earlier than anyone else?'

Sidney chose not to reply but took up a brisk pace along the riverbank.

Arthur caught his arm. 'Are you well, Sidney?'

'I feel that life is driving me half-mad.'

'Well,' Arthur joked. 'You were already halfway there.'

Sidney laughed, a great boom of a thing that took them both quite by surprise and did nothing so much as confirm his apparent madness.

'Is it the cricket ball, do you think?' Tom asked, more to Arthur than Sidney.

'The cricket ball is the least of my problems, Tom. As  _ well you know _ .' The tone set Tom at no doubt as to the meaning of his words.

They were spared anything further in this line by the appearance of the Babington/Crowe/Ashton boat.

'Ahoy there!' Crowe bellowed, dangerously sober, 'Are you ready to be solidly beaten?'

'I should like to see you try!' Tom shouted back.

'You are about to!' Crowe threw them a majestic wave as his boat skimmed along the water. Babington gave a far more restrained greeting and rolled his eyes in the direction of his cox.

'If Crowe wins, there will be no living with him,' Sidney muttered to Arthur, whose laugh rose up from deep in his chest.

'Then we will do our utmost to go as fast as we possibly can!' Arthur said. 'Why, I only had a small breakfast this morning, that I might be as light as possible.'

Sidney slapped his younger brother on the back. 'You are just right exactly as you are, Arthur.'

His brother blushed a little at such praise from his adored older brother. 'You are odd sometimes, Sidney. Are you sure that ball didn't do more lasting damage?'

'Fairly sure.'

'I know you have not been altogether happy,' Arthur said, voice low that Tom might not overhear. 'But it seems to me that you are happiest when Miss Heywood is around.'

'Arthur, I cannot go back on my word-'

'Nothing is ever certain. I know that if I had someone who loved me, I would follow them to the ends of the earth, and quite possibly beyond. But I do not suppose that is my lot in life.'

'Lots of people love you, Arthur.' It was weak comfort, and Sidney knew it.

'Oh yes, but not as everyone deserves to be loved.'

'You cannot know-'

'Yes, I do. But that is no matter. What is at hand is whether you are really going to shackle yourself to that woman.'

'I gave my word-'

'And yet you are still not married. That is curious, is it not?'

'I had to go to Antigua.'

'Yes. And you have been back two months now. Tell me... if you were free to marry who you wished, would you be a bachelor today?'

'Arthur...' Sidney took a breath and was as honest as Charlotte had been very recently. 'I would be married longer than Babington.'

'I do not know what is to be done to the satisfaction of all, but I don't suppose there is much to lose by trying?'

'Except for our family's fortune? Tom's liberty?'

'It would not be so bad as all that. Sanditon is a success. Did you not see how many people are here today? Lady D won't throw Tom in debtors' prison as long as she's making money.'

'And what of my reputation as a gentleman?'

At this, Arthur fell about laughing. 'Your what?'

'Really, Arthur.'

'Sidney, have you forgotten everyone already thinks you an ill-tempered rake and rogue? What reputation do you have to lose?'

He pursed his lips rather primly a moment, not at all happy with his brother's reaction. 'It is one thing for people to  _ think _ one a rake and quite another to prove it. Cha- Miss Heywood would think poorly of me for it.'

'Really? As long as you followed one broken engagement with a short, complete one, I cannot see she would mind ever so much.'

This idea was too much for Sidney. Overwhelmed for a moment with something that felt a lot like hope, he stamped it down with the certainty of someone who knows a thing is impossible.

'It cannot be,' he said. 'I have given my word.'

'Sidney-'

'Please Arthur, don't taunt me with possibilities that are nothing of the sort.'

'I do not mean to upset you-'

'I know! I...' Sidney took a breath. 'I know that, dear brother. But I have spent  _ months _ trying to find a way to extricate myself from this blasted engagement without causing harm to Charlotte or Eliza, or to Tom and the family. There is none.'

'If you are certain.'

'I am. Let us just  _ row _ and think upon this no more.'

'As you wish, Sidney.' Arthur looked almost as devastated as Sidney generally felt. 'But all in all, I wish you had never met that bloody Eliza. She has caused you nothing but heartache.'

'That's not true,' Sidney replied. 'There was a time when I loved her very much.'

'Yes, but what joy has she ever brought you?'

Sidney did not reply.

It was left to Tom to interrupt: 'Are you ready, gentlemen?'

*

The crowd gathered to watch the boat race was at least twice as large as last year's. Were Charlotte not with Lady Susan Worcester and Mary Parker, she might never have found a suitable place from which to watch. As it was, they had very good seats by the riverbank, just at the finishing line. 

Lady Susan seemed to be permanently accompanied by a cluster of exceedingly refined ladies with titles or other excellent pedigree. Indeed, their chance meeting at the Maudesley ball was almost the only time Charlotte had seen her friend alone. Still, there was space for Charlotte to squeeze onto a bench between Susan and Mary.

Mrs Campion was directly opposite on the other bank, surrounded by other ladies, none of whom Charlotte recognised.

'New money, the lot of them,' Lady Susan whispered. In spite of herself, Charlotte giggled.

'You are unkind,' she whispered back. 'After all, I am-'

'You are a gentleman's daughter. Do not forget that. Some of them are nothing but the wives of tradesmen.'

'I do not see that there is anything terribly wrong with tradesmen.'

'Perhaps not, but they should not look down on  _ you _ . Do not forget that.'

While Lady Susan spoke generally, it was evident that she also meant one specific woman. Charlotte felt a blush rise up on her cheeks. 'I will not.'

'Remember,' Susan said. 'Nothing is certain.'

'Charlotte,' Mary nudged her. 'I cannot bear the suspense!'

'Shall we run over to the start?' She suggested. 'Like last year, perhaps we can try to follow the race.'

'Shall we?'

'I will keep your seats here,' Susan said. 'Go and cheer on your gentlemen.'

Susan's use of the plural might simply have meant Mary's husband and brothers, but Charlotte doubted it based on the smirk that twitched at Susan's mouth. Charlotte and Mary leapt up and, trying to retain some ladylike dignity, rushed back up the hill and down again to the starting line.

'Come on, you Parkers!' Mary yelled as she all but rolled down towards them. 

Tom waved; Sidney saluted. 

'And you, Miss Heywood!' Arthur called out. 'Who do you root for?'

Several sets of eyes turned to regard her with deepest curiosity. She felt fortunate that she had already practised her answer earlier.

'Why, Mr Parker,' she called back, loud enough to be heard by all. 'The winners, of course!'

Mr Calloway, the boat-maker who was in charge again this year, called out to the crews: 'Hold steady now!'

In a flash, the cannon went for the start of the race. Half a dozen sets of shoulders strained as oars pushed through water. She heard the coxes yell their various instructions - demands in the case of Mr Crowe - and the boats sliced through the water. 

She and Mary ran along the banks as far as it was safe to do so. When they were obliged to return inland by vegetation and geography, the race might be won by any of the boats.

*

In the boats, the gentlemen heaved and fought and worked hard to row as hard as they could, except the coxes, who steered and shouted and pushed their crews.

No one boat had yet pulled away from the pack, even as they rounded the final corners. Crowe and Babington had style but not power; the Parkers had some power and some style; the workers' crew had power but less style. 

Charlotte and Mary returned to the stands just as the boats came into view. The crowd yelled, roared, screamed and shouted in support of whoever they had chosen. Across the way, Charlotte saw Eliza stand and cheer loudly for Sidney. Not the Parkers, just Sidney.

She stayed firm to her decision to support  _ the winners _ and did not put any name into her mouth. Still, her heart was there as the boats drew closer. She would be happy with any win, but she so wished for Sidney to be victorious. If she stared a little longer at him as he passed, back broad and strong, she really tried not to do so.

The noise rose to the status of cacophony as the boats sliced ever closer to the finishing line.

With a collective roar, the Parkers pushed a little harder and Arthur even rose up in his seat as they passed the line first. Barely, for the workers were barely six inches behind them, and Crowe/Babington/Ashton only a few more behind them. The shopkeepers' association crew clearly saw they were last and slowed a little even before finishing.

The two rowing Parkers collapsed on themselves, exhausted. The boat wobbled a little at the sudden lack of force and Arthur found himself tipped into the water.

Diana was the first to respond: 'Arthur!"

The water was not deep there, and Arthur was soon stood up, drenched but laughing, as nearby men helped him out of the water.

As in the previous year, Lady Susan presented the Sanditon Gentlemen's Race Cup. This time, to Tom Parker, who held it aloft as though it were the greatest prize. 

They shook hands with the other competitors.

'Not the prize you were after?' Stringer asked Sidney.

He blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Nothing. Just a memory of last year.'

Eliza all but leapt at Sidney. 'How proud I am of you!'

'The greater share surely belongs to Tom and Arthur.'

'Nonsense! You carried your brothers, as you always do!'

Perhaps this was meant to be said quietly, between the two of them. It was not, however, said quietly, and all those around, including Charlotte and the Parkers, heard her very clearly. Everyone around fell silent, waiting to see what would happen. 

Sidney went very pale. 'You are quite mistaken, madam. My brothers have, at times, carried me in every possible sense. Ten years ago, I would have been lost completely if not for Tom and Mary. You will know the reason, of course.'

Eliza went redder than Charlotte imagined possible. 

'And Arthur is the kindest of brothers. I am fortunate to have them. And Diana and Mary, of course.'

'I did not mean-'

'I am sure,' he replied, leaving her in no doubt of his actual opinion. 'I am sure too that they will understand you did not mean it, for they are far more forgiving than I.'

Sidney spoke low, cold and without any affection at all, then turned on his heels and walked away from Mrs Campion. The temperature in the air itself seemed to plummet and despite everything that had happened, Charlotte actually felt a little sorry for Eliza.

Eliza scowled at Charlotte and then walked away in the opposite direction. There was no more time to consider what had happened, for Diana was calling for Dr Fuchs to attend Arthur.

'He might catch a chill!' she cried. 'Oh, would someone please fetch the doctor.'

'I just need to get into a set of fresh, dry clothes,' he replied, no worse for his dip. 'No more that a quick dip in the sea, surely!'

It was soon decided that Sidney would walk home with Arthur, leaving everyone else to continue enjoying the regatta. 

'Well done, Parkers,' she said as they passed by.

'You said you were rooting for the winners, eh, Miss Heywood!' Arthur grinned. 'And here we are!'

She could not help returning his smile. 'I am glad for you. It was a close run thing.'

'It was,' Sidney agreed quietly. 'I will not say the best men won. But perhaps those who wanted it most.'

Quite what he meant by i was left to interpretation and the meaning she took left Charlotte's heart beating hard.


	16. In Vino Veritas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the spiffing comments... I hope you like what's about to happen...........
> 
> PS. I posted in a rush before a work thing. I'll pick up and correct any errors and typos in due course...

One of the things Eliza Campion had freely sponsored with her fortune was the first Regatta Ball, held that very night at the Assembly Rooms. The competitors were to be the guests of honour, which brought hilarity to Fred Robinson, who had never been to a ball and was obliged to appeal to James Stringer for assistance with suitable garb.

As the town had swelled with those visiting for the regatta, this was the greatest crush of a ball that the Assembly Rooms had seen to date. Well before Charlotte's arrival, the hall was busy, noisy and overly warm.

The previous ball having ended with Eliza Campion's unpleasantness, Charlotte was not entirely looking forward to it. However, she had acquired several truly exquisite gowns during her stay with Susan in London, and they would be wasted if she remained indoors.

Mary had had to call her downstairs several times: her oft-infamous bravery had deserted her after the last few weeks (indeed, the last year) of emotional turmoil and no amount of finery could help her feel that she was equal to those elegant London ladies who looked down their noses at her.

The idea of attending a ball where she was obliged to watch Sidney and Eliza Campion together did not appeal in the slightest.

Still, she squared her shoulders and walked down the stairs. Mary beamed up at her, like a proud older sister.

'You look lovely, Charlotte! You truly are the jewel of Sanditon!'

The dress was a deep amethyst purple silk that shimmered and gleamed in the candlelight. Next to Mary, in a deep sapphire blue, she did look like a jewel in a literal sense as much as a figurative one.

Mr Hodges escorted them on the short walk to the Assembly Rooms, where a jovial scene awaited them.

They were announced then: 'Mrs Parker and Miss Heywood!'

It was quite gratifying that so many people paused in their chatter or dancing to see them arrive.

Tom had been there since the start of the event, greeting guests with aplomb and genuine high cheer.

Lord Babington and Crowe were the first to greet them, both in excellent suits of colourful silk and brocade.

Lord Babington bowed to them. 'Ladies! You are the jewels of this fine little town!'

Some small chatter about Esther and Nathaniel's health followed, during which Babington tried to contain his joy and Crowe his boredom.

'Miss Heywood,' Mr Crowe bowed to her specifically. 'Would you be at all interested in taking a turn with me?'

She blinked, expecting anything but that. He seemed clear-eyed and sober for once. 'Oh, yes. Of course!'

He took her hand and led her onto the dancefloor just as a lively reel began. There was not much chance to talk during that tune but the next was a little more sedate and they continued dancing.

'You look very beautiful this evening, Miss Heywood.'

'Thank you, Mr Crowe. You seem very well today.'

'Do I? I always find sobriety sits poorly on my shoulders. But here I am just the same.'

'I think sobriety suits you, sir. We have had more enjoyable conversations in the past few weeks than the entirety of last summer.'

'Indeed? Well, you were also quite occupied with my friend last year. He does tend to dominate.'

Heat spread up her neck and into her face. 'Mr Crowe, I do not-'

'I was just teasing, Miss Heywood. Telling the truth, perhaps, but also just teasing.'

'I wish you would not.'

'As you like. They're here, of course.'

She had caught a glimpse of what she thought was the back of Sidney's head during the reel but had not known for certain.

'I hope they enjoy the evening.'

'You are a far better person than I, Miss Heywood.'

'Is that difficult?'

He barked a laugh then. 'Better but still sharp-tongued, eh?'

'You walked into that particular jest, Mr Crowe.'

This he conceded with a nod. 'Being a better person does not get you what you want.'

She knew exactly what he meant. 'No, it does not, but I must be able to live with myself and my choices, so... it is the way of it.'

'What if it didn't have to be?'

'Sir?'

'There are always ways around difficulties.' He shook his hair then as they twirled. 'For instance, I learnt as a young man that widows are much better prospects if one is not interested in marriage.'

'Mr Crowe-'

'And if not widows, married women with husbands who are open-minded and understanding-'

'Mr Crowe! I am not interested in-' Charlotte, quite scandalised, began to move away.

His grip on her hands tightened, just a little. 'What if you were married to someone who minded not at all that your heart lay somewhere else?'

'Mr Crowe. I cannot imagine that you are suggesting what might be inferred because you are not a total cad-'

'Well...'

'Mr Crowe. I beg you to cease this line of thinking. I cannot... I cannot.'

'Very well.' He had a touch of gentleness about him now. 'It was a bad plan.'

'Yes, it was.'

'Charlotte Crowe does have a ring to it.'

'It does not, sir. Why would you throw your own chance away?'

'You assume everyone considers marriage a happy state of affairs. I do not. I would not wish to spend my life with just one woman. No.' He shook his head vehemently. 'No, not for me, that life. I like my freedom.'

'And you would shackle yourself to_ me_? Why?'

'For Sidney, of course. If you were in my house, you would be able-'

'Stop talking.'

'Forgive me. It seemed like a way for you to-'

'But then I could not live with myself, Mr Crowe. I will not steal another woman's husband from her, any more than I would cheapen my own wedding vows.'

Crowe grinned then. 'That's the brilliance of it, ye see? Our vows wouldn't have been sincere to begin with!'

'But they would be real. I would not dishonour you so, Mr Crowe. You deserve better than that.'

He stumbled a little then and turned a sharp gaze upon her that sent a cold shiver down her spine. 'No, Miss Heywood, I do not.'

'But you-'

'We will not speak of this again, I assure you. And now, the dance is ended. It never happened.' He bowed to her.

She bobbed a curtsey to him. 'Of course, Mr Crowe. Thank you for an... enjoyable dance.'

'Always, Miss Heywood.' He led her over to the refreshment table, where Mary and Diana were stood sipping glasses of punch, then all but disappeared in a poof of smoke.

'You made a very spirited pair!' Diana said.

Mary handed Charlotte a glass. 'Here, dear. You look a little parched.'

'Thank you.'

'Two dances with Mr Crowe, eh?' Diana asked.

'Nothing of that sort, Diana!' Charlotte laughed, even though it chimed falsely in her mouth. 'We have become friends since the cricket match.'

'He would be a good match,' Diana continued. 'He has five thousand a year-'

'And spends four of that on brandy and wine. I do not believe Mr Crowe will ever settle down, nor would he be happy if he did. I pray you do not read any meanings that do not exist.'

'Oh. Well. Yes, of course.' Diana made an excuse to leave them then and did so quickly. 

'Mary, I didn't mean to-'

Mary turned a kindly eye upon her and patted her arm. 'She will be fine. I do not think more than one dance with any young man would be wise, however. Many people are watching you.'

'Me?'

'Yes. To see who _does _take your fancy.'

Charlotte shuddered. 'I do not wish to-'

'Well met, Mrs Parker, Miss Heywood!'

It was James Stringer's turn to ask for Miss Heywood's hand for a dance, and this continued in the same vein all night until she was obliged to say no to Mr Robinson on account of aching feet. He accepted this rejection with good humour but she was not certain he believed her reasons for saying "no, thank you".

Charlotte sat for some time with some of the older ladies but their brand of conversation was not of interest to her, so she found an excuse and instead retreated to the space behind the balcony where people only went to _not _be proposed to, or sneered at by engaged persons.

It was remarkable how alone a person could be, even in the midst of great merriment and crowds of people. She was not built for loneliness but a little solitude could sometimes go a long way and Charlotte was grateful for a moment away from curious eyes.

Perhaps there was an inevitability to what happened next. Sidney Parker bounded up the stairs and into the room. He halted at sight of her, awkwardly frozen mid-step and genuinely surprised to see her there.

'Oh, Miss Heywood.' He remembered to bow a little. 'I thought you were dancing.'

'No, as you see.'

'I only came to...' he shrugged, unable or unwilling to mislead Charlotte. '...to hide for a while.'

'You need not justify yourself to me, Mr Parker, but I must go back down-'

'Of course.' He bowed to her and let her pass. Except, at the last minute, he reached out to touch her hand. 'Forgive me.'

'I seem incapable of doing anything else.'

This latest encounter lasted no more than a minute, but the moment she was down the stairs and into the more open space, Eliza Campion was upon her.

'Miss Heywood! How surprising to see _ you _ appear from the place Sidney just disappeared to!'

'I cannot fathom what you man, Mrs Campion. We passed each other just now, but no more than that.'

'Of course. Of _course_. I suppose you think me a simpleton-'

'Mrs Campion, I will not give time or thought to such ridiculous inferences.'

Eliza clamped onto Charlotte's arm. 'Why are you _still here _?'

'In this ballroom?'

'In _Sanditon_. Why could you not just be gone and stay gone?'

'I love Sanditon, Mrs Campion.'

'I know what you think you love!'

'I speak plainly. Everything else aside, I love Sanditon. It charmed me from the very first and I will work towards its success for as long as I can.'

'Always with an _answer, _smart-mouthed _child_.' Eliza moved to hiss in Charlotte's ear and now the smell of strong wine on her breath was obvious. Eliza was unpleasant enough sober - Charlotte dreaded her drunk. Mrs Campion was by no means falling-down drunk but definitely not totally clear-headed.

'Perhaps we should move this conversation elsewhere, Mrs Campion.'

'Why? I have nothing to hide or feel ashamed about!'

'Nor do I, Mrs Campion, I assure you.'

'A likely story! I see you, mooning after_ my _betrothed! As if he has not been in love with me all these years.'

Charlotte's patience, already worn and weary, began to dissolve in her blood as it heated up. This really was too much from the lady. 'Then, madam, I can hardly account for your insecurity in this matter.'

'You see yourself as a romantic heroine, I expect, from your books! Perhaps, Miss Heywood, the grand romance here is not yours! Perhaps it is _mine_, after all. That I should wed an old man, who was considerate enough to die early and leave me free to marry my love! You are most willing to think ill of me for what happened-'

Charlotte had had enough at this point and snatched her arm away. 'By all accounts, you broke his heart, and he near _died _from the sorrow, Mrs Campion!'

'It was not my choice! Are you of the belief that all young women have kind parents like yours who are determined to see you marry for love? I assure you, they do not! The choice I had was stark and plain, and I had no choice.'

'There is always a choice! Sidney hadn't much then, but he would never have seen you want for a _thing. _ Do not weep to me, Mrs Campion, when you chose to break his heart. Not once, but _twice_.'

'Twice?' Eliza stopped short of whatever she was going to say, confused by Charlotte's statement.

Charlotte fixed Mrs Campion with a sharp, seething glare, far angrier on Sidney's behalf than her own: 'Once when you threw him over for someone else, and then again when you obliged him to do the same to me.'

This was the first time Charlotte had spoken quite so plainly about her relationship with Sidney to anyone other than Sidney himself or Susan. Tears rolled down her face but she thought little of it.

Dimly, she was aware of Lady Susan at her shoulder and Tom and Mary nearby. 

'Charlotte, are you well?' Lady Susan asked in a whisper.

'No, I do not think I am.'

'You are _nothing _of importance to Sidney!' Eliza hissed. 'You are not _wifely _material! You are... perhaps when we are married, I will allow him to set up a household for you, and that will satisfy his needs nicely-'

Charlotte stumbled, physically recoiling from the bald suggestion and insult to her own integrity. 'I beg you, do not continue! I could no sooner agree to such an arrangement than shoot myself in the face!'

Susan put an arm around her shoulder. 'Come along, Charlotte. We need not give this person our time any longer.'

'Really, _Charlotte_,' Eliza added. 'Why so coy? It would be the perfect solution for you.'

'You may think that,' came a new voice. 'In which case I assure you, you know neither Miss Heywood's character or mine.'

Everyone turned or looked up: Sidney stood a little distance away, close enough to hear but not close enough to have been noticed. He was angrier than any of them had ever seen him. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and where he was often loudly aggressive, he was a single icicle of barely-restrained fury.

Eliza's eyes widened and for the first time, she looked truly frightened. 'Sidney, I-'

'Mrs Campion,' he replied, quite beyond mere anger to something almost serene. 'If this is your attitude towards our marriage, I must beg you to consider your options. I will receive your reply in the morning.'

It was possibly the closest he could get to breaking the engagement himself without causing an absolute outrage. 

Sidney turned on his heels and strode away and out of the room. 

Eliza all but folded in on herself as Susan and Mary helped Charlotte - by now utterly overcome and trying with all her might not to burst into actual sobs - to sit down a little distance away.

Mercifully, almost nobody else had noticed. It would surely be the talk of the town tomorrow, but for now, the witnesses were limited.

After a moment, Eliza recovered enough to rush from the hall, possibly in pursuit of her fiancé.

'What just happened?' Charlotte asked after several long, deep breaths.

Mary and Susan looked at each other.

'My dear,' Susan said. 'I haven't the slightest idea. But I am not sure it is a_ bad _thing. Now, let us get you home.'

Lady Susan was well-experienced with society and was able to steer Charlotte through the crowd and back to Trafalgar House without anyone being much the wiser.

The door had barely closed behind them when the dam broke and Charlotte burst into hacking sobs. Her dear friend hugged her close.

'All will be well,' Susan murmured, although whether she truly believed it or not wasn't clear.

*


	17. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reception to the last chapter was really immense - thank you so much! I'd been planning that for a while so it was super to get it out to you.
> 
> Am posting in a rush so will correct any weirdness later, but I wanted to get this done now while I've got the chance.

The morning after the Regatta Ball dawned, as mornings always had and, as far as anyone knew, always would. It was a warm morning and the workers on the latest building projects were already down to shirt-sleeves when weary ball-goers arose with aching feet and sore heads.

Some heads, naturally, were heavier and sorer than others as they dissected the ball and its incidents over breakfast tables or bedclothes.

Sidney Parker spent the night walking - endlessly and without aim. He had almost ceased the habit entirely after his convalescence stopped him, but he had left the Regatta Ball and walked directly along to the water's edge. Once there, he continued walking along the coast until the dark sky started to turn inky, then grey, then finally, thin blue.

This time, though, he was absolutely stone-cold sober.

Better walk for hours than hit someone, especially if that someone was a woman to whom he was affianced. 

He wasn't even sure what made him angriest. Eliza's casual proposition of something so immoral? Her presumption that he would be happy with the arrangement? That she apparently cared so little for him that she would not mind him maintaining a mistress?

Those things were infuriating indeed, but nothing made his blood boil - then freeze completely - as her inflicting it upon Charlotte. He had been late to the conversation - he had only caught a glimpse of them from the balcony by chance - and had seen how Charlotte's poise collapsed upon being so attacked.

As if she would _ever _agree to such an arrangement! By God, the idea had briefly occurred to Sidney early on in his attempts to find a solution, but it had been dismissed without any contemplation, knowing that such a notion would be so abhorrent to her. He would never ask it of her and even in his worst dreams, he did not consider it.

He had never wanted to hurt someone as badly as he wanted to hurt Eliza - not even the first time she broke his heart - and it was all he could do to walk out of the room without touching her. Or indeed, scooping Charlotte up and taking her far, far away from all this... _ mess_.

He walked and walked, pausing in the cove to sit a while, and it was only as dawn broke that he returned to Trafalgar House.

Tom was awake and up already in his study. His usual kinetic energy was muted, even Sidney in his gloom could see it.

'Ah, Sidney. I'm glad to see you return safely.'

Sidney hunched in his coat, cold and damp, and slouched into the room. 'Forgive me. I did not want to worry you.'

'Are you well, brother?' The usual King of Sanditon mask was gone from Tom and all that remained was an older brother's concern. Sidney hadn't realised how much he'd missed that man.

'Is Miss Heywood well?'

Tom sighed. 'Lady Susan sat up with her until she fell asleep. She will be well in time.'

'I wish- never mind.'

'I must beg your forgiveness, Sidney. I had forgotten the harm Eliza Campion did to you, all those years ago. Arthur was right to be wary. And... if the engagement is ended and Mrs Campion withdraws her investment then... so be it. You matter to me more than money.'

'Thank you, Tom.' Sidney was not insensible to the great strides his brother had just taken with him, but he was cold to the bone, dead-tired and ready to collapse.

'What will you do?'

'I do not yet know.'

'Whatever you do, I am sure it will be the right thing and you will have my fullest support.'

Sidney must have been exhausted because he had to fight the urge to burst into tears. Instead, he swallowed the newly-formed lump in his throat and said: 'I am grateful. For now, I think I must drink tea, bathe and change my clothes.'

'I'll call for hot water for you.'

Climbing the stairs felt like a Herculean task but he made it. At Charlotte's door, he paused, tempted almost beyond sanity to grasp the doorknob, twist and enter. He managed not to, and when he heard voices within, he strode on.

Within an hour, he was clean, freshly-shaved and ready to face the day in a black suit that made him look as grim as his reputation suggested. There was nothing to be done for the tiredness, but coffee would aid in that endeavour.

Downstairs, he encountered Lady Susan at the breakfast table. He bowed.

'Lady Susan, good morning. How does Charlotte fare?'

'Getting to the point directly, Mr Parker?' Susan remarked, not without humour. 'She is rattled, but she will rally, of course. She is made of the sternest stuff.'

'Yes, I know! Forgive me... I do not mean to be so rude.'

Susan waved him off. 'One must grant some dispensations to those who are crossed in love. It is dashed inconvenient to you, I know.'

She sipped her tea. 'Now, Mr Parker, how do you intend to resolve matters? They cannot be left as they are.'

'No, they cannot. I am going to see Mrs Campion shortly.'

'You are still very young, Mr Parker, for all your great experience. One of these days you will truly learn that a reputation really is only as important as you make it, especially when it is set against true happiness.'

'I agree, but I am not an unmarried young lady without huge wealth to protect me.'

'Perhaps a married young lady with your wealth and affections to protect her would manage well enough.'

To this, Sidney answered only with a short, sharp nod. 'I must have coffee and then I will go about my business. I am... I am very glad that Charlotte has you to care for her, Lady Susan.'

'She is a kind and sweet young lady with an iron backbone I cannot help but admire.'

'She is.' Sidney poured his coffee and they sat quietly while she ate and he drank. 'And I do. Admire her, I mean. Not just as-'

Susan kindly did not laugh at him uncharacteristically tripping over words and meanings.

Mary arrived, apologising profusely to Lady Susan for not being up to eat with her, which Susan pooh-poohed.

Sidney's cup was now empty. He placed it down with great precision, stood up and bowed to them both. 'Good day to you.'

Susan raised her teacup in salute. 'Good luck to _you, _Mr Parker.'

*

Unbeknownst to Sidney, Eliza had been awake almost as long as him. After a long night of drowning her sorrows followed by awkward sobering up, she went to take a dip in a bathing machine. It would, she hoped, help clear her aching head and tense, tumultuous mind.

Eliza's walk to the beach first thing that morning had not been pleasant. Plenty of people - workers, visitors, residents all - had already been up and about and openly stared at her. Worse, they spoke behind their hands, almost certainly about _her._ The attendant at the bathing machine had barely even helped her before shoving her into the machine and it into the sea.

At least she was no longer unsure what gossip had spread already.

The water hardly helped at all. It was_ only_ freezing cold, not refreshing. Her skin was clammy and her heart felt like it was in her throat until she gave up and got back into the machine to dry off and dress.

The walk home was worse, as more visitors and guests were now about and stared and gossiped without bothering to hide it.

She intended to walk past Trafalgar House as quickly as possible but froze as she saw Lady Susan leaving. Should she try to greet the lady or walk as if she had not seen her? Dodge away to hide?

The choice was taken from her. In full view of at least a dozen people, Lady Susan saw Eliza, regarded her... and then turned away to walk to her apartments. 

Nobody as socially adept as Lady Susan Worcester would inflict the cut direct on anyone by mistake and everyone who witnessed it knew that. 

Eliza Campion was the richest widow in the country and not a single guinea, penny or farthing meant a damn thing compared to being cut by one of the most senior, most admired ladies of the aristocracy.

All this and she hadn't even faced Sidney yet! Eliza rushed back to her own apartment, heart thumping and face red. Her hands shook as she set herself down on a chair near the door and put her head into those shaking palms.

She had a single solitary moment of peace before her butler shattered it entirely: 'Mrs Campion, you have a guest. He is waiting in the sitting room.'

'Mr Parker?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Very well. I will tidy myself up first.'

'You ought not to make him wait, ma'am.'

'And who,' she turned on him, 'are you to tell me what to do?'

The butler bowed in what even Eliza's distracted mind correctly interpreted as a parody of servility. 'Nobody ma'am, of course. I speak only to advise that he is not the kind of man to keep waiting on a good day and this is not one of those.'

'You've listened to the gossip, I suppose?'

'Ma'am.'

'I suppose I'm the villain of the piece?'

'With the greatest of respects, Mrs Campion, you were unkind to Miss Heywood.'

'What of Miss Heywood? Everyone is keen to assume she is faultless!'

'We like Miss Heywood,' the butler said, perhaps supposing that as he was about to be released from his position, he might as well make it worthwhile. 'We know her to be a young lady of utmost propriety, moral fibre and integrity. She is a part of Sanditon as much as anyone and we_ like_ her.'

'And me?'

'Respectfully, Mrs Campion, most of us do not know you, and those that do-'

'Well?'

'You are not well-liked.'

'I may not be well-liked, but I am still engaged to Mr Parker.'

'Should you be?' The butler realised he had spoken aloud and bowed again. 'I will collect my things and be gone within the half-hour, Mrs Campion.'

'Did I say you were sacked, man?'

'No, but-'

'Good staff are hard to find in this blasted town and you will suffice. Tell Mr Parker I will be with him shortly.'

'Ma'am.' He bowed and returned to the sitting room as Eliza ensured her appearance was good.

She dithered a little, in the event, suddenly lacking confidence as she regarded herself in the looking glass.

Charlotte Heywood was a very pretty thing, if not quite fashionable, and she was several years younger and fresher. Miss Heywood had not endured a decade of marriage to an old bore like Campion. Miss Heywood had not spent a decade bemoaning her choices. Miss Heywood was many things Eliza would've liked to be but never had a chance to be... 

She, however, was still Eliza Campion and the wealthiest widow in the country. She was one of the most elegant, beautiful ladies of the _ton_ and her experience was not to be wasted.

There was nothing to do but meet Sidney face to face. She smoothed her skirts, took a breath and entered the sitting room.

Sidney stood by the windows, staring out at the scene on the street below, hands clasped behind his back. The set of his shoulders was enough to indicate how angry he was. 

Eliza Campion had plenty of experience soothing Sidney Parker. She assumed her brightest expression: 'Sidney, how silly I was last night-'

He turned, eyes narrow and cold, lips a thin line. 'Silly, Mrs Campion? I would not describe your behaviour yesterday as silly.'

'Well, no, but-'

'Have you considered your options, as I suggested?'

'You're being foolish-'

'I could forgive your insult to my brothers, Mrs Campion. But I cannot allow your attempts to blacken a faultless young lady's reputation to continue. You will apologise to Miss Heywood publicly and-'

'I will do no such thing! She has been trying to get you into a compromising position-'

'I assure you, she has not.' His lips seemed to twitch with an unmade smile, which made her own rage spiral upwards. 

'She has bewitched you-'

'I assure you, she has not.' 

'Then how do you explain your coldness towards me and your fixation with her?'

'I am in love with her, Eliza. I was in love with her before you reappeared in my life and you know it. You knew that and obliged me to propose to you anyway. You knew I would do anything for my family. I cannot understand_ why_, but you did. I have grievously injured Miss Heywood, myself and yes, you too. Can you not see that there is no way we will be happy, Eliza?'

'Of course, we will-'

'You told Charlotte she could be_ my mistress! _How can you care so little for the sanctity of marriage and make such-'

'The sanctity of marriage is a lie, Sidney.'

'Your marriage to Campion may have been unhappy but I am not-'

'I was not unhappy! I had everything I wanted and he was good enough to die that I might return to you and have the life we deserved. Marriage is still a lie! For the poor, it is used to make them behave. For us, it is a political and economic convenience.'

Sidney moved away from the window and paced like a tiger recently, unwillingly caged. 'You deserve better than me, Eliza. Better than someone who so completely loves another. Really, why do you persist?'

'Because I love you!'

'You do not, Eliza, I know it for a fact. If you loved me as you claim, you would have married me when we had the chance. If you love me as you claim, you would not see me as wretchedly depressed as I have been. And I have been. I did not remove to Antigua just to delay the inevitable, but to spare you _me _at my worst. You do not deserve my contempt or vitriol. You deserve more than that. Or so I thought-'

'I will withdraw my investments!'

'I cannot tell you otherwise.'

'It will ruin your brother!'

'It will not. We have worked this last year to ensure it does not. I would not have myself under your power any more than absolutely necessary. We may struggle, but Tom will not be ruined.'

'I can ruin you anyway! Your reputation will be _nothing_.'

'Do what you will to me,' he replied. 'I will not place myself under your power a moment longer. That is certain. You may choose the manner in which matters unfold.'

'Sidney-'

'I would have tried to ensure your comfort and contentment, if not your happiness... until you were so cruel to Charlotte. Now I can only promise that I will not be cruel. I will be an apathetic, distant husband, I am sure of it. I cannot be otherwise, Eliza, for my feelings towards you have curdled to eternal, sour disdain. You would be happy to parade me around as your token, but society will see a man who _loathes _his wife.'

'You would not!'

'Would I not? Have you not heard, Mrs Campion? Sidney Parker is _bad news_. An angry, grim man! Handsome, to be sure, but dissolute and badly-behaved. A dandy with no thought for anything but fighting, drink and women. What reputation have _I_ to lose?'

'Charlotte Heywood's.'

All at once, Sidney was in front of her, looming above as he always had. Once it had felt comfortable and comforting but now she understood why he was so notorious.

'Do that,' he said, moving away to pace again. 'And I will see you ruined in turn. Do you not see, Eliza? You and I will not be married. That is fixed. What is not yet decided is the story we tell the world.'

'Sidney, I-'

'What will it be, madam? The choice is yours.'

Eliza very much wanted to burst into tears. They had always been most effective in turning feelings towards her - Sidney himself had been swayed more than once - but she was not at all sure how they would be received now.

She took a breath to steady herself. 

*


	18. Charlotte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments as ever - I really appreciate it.
> 
> To be super-clear, I am here reflecting the morality that has been enforced on Charlotte by her time and society. I don't think personally that anything much should come into consideration except the enthusiastic consent of those able to consent (anything less than that is gonna be a problem though) and quite a lot of 'morality' throughout history has been structured more to oppress and control than anything else.
> 
> So hopefully, I've been able to put across something historically accurate while also pointing out how much of it is total toss.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.

Charlotte hadn't passed a night this badly since Sidney broke the news of his engagement. She wept, tossed, turned and almost entirely failed to sleep.

Dear, dear Susan had stayed with her all night, never once minding how silly she was being. And really, she was being silly, wasn't she?

Then, Charlotte remembered what Eliza had said. No, she wasn't being _silly_. Anyone could have overheard and misconstrued wholly what was being said.

Worst of all, there was part of Charlotte that _wanted _to say yes. Wouldn't it solve everything? Sidney and the Parkers would keep control of Eliza's money and Charlotte would still have her love.

All she had to do was give up every moral and ethical principle she'd ever held close. All she had to do was surrender her soul.

Would it really be _that _bad? Susan was, after all, a dear and lovely lady and also someone's mistress. Yet, that seemed rather different. The upper echelons really did do things differently, and Susan was already a married woman. 

Did it _really _matter? She might end up shunned by most of society, but when had she ever much minded about then? Living a life with Sidney would be worth it - wouldn't it?

Except... except that she would likely come to resent the loss of her integrity and would either come to loathe herself or him, and neither of those options sounded promising.

It was one thing to lose society and another to lose her family. Mr and Mrs Heywood were the best of people but they would be obliged to cut her away to preserve their own family name for the betterment of the other children. She couldn't see Tom or Mary allowing her into their family home once she made herself so infamous.

But she would have Sidney...

So around and around her mind went all night. Around and around and never fully settling. She could not picture herself as a kept woman but she could very well see a cosy sitting room in a little house somewhere, could see herself welcome Sidney _home _at the end of a day-

And then saying farewell as he returned to his real home with Eliza. Watching him leave to attend events with _his wife_.

She would come to despise the situation eventually. And that was before any children came into view.

Any children would bear the stain of their parents' poor behaviour and she could not stand that thought. Any child born from such a union would find life immeasurably more difficult than they deserved.

Charlotte might consider giving everything up for her own desires, but she could not inflict the consequences on anyone else.

And that was how she fell asleep sometime after the clock chimed for four o'clock in the morning. She subsequently slept much later than usual. 

She awoke to the sun high in the sky, light pouring in through her windows. The room was otherwise empty and she hoped Susan had found some rest for herself.

Charlotte remained in bed for some time, staring up at the ceiling as she considered what the world beyond her door would bring. What gossip flowed after the ball? Perhaps some other incident overshadowed anything Eliza or she could have done... perhaps nobody had noticed at all.

These were the idealistic hopings of a naive child - Charlotte knew better. She rose and called for water and assistance from Atkins to make her presentable for the day.

Atkins spent longer than usual on Charlotte's dress and hair. 

'What are they saying?' Charlotte ventured to ask.

'I don't know what you mean, Miss.'

'About the Ball and... things.'

'I don't listen to gossip, Miss. If anyone's talking, I haven't heard 'em.'

'Ah. Well.' She didn't believe this for a second but it was kind of Atkins just the same.

The face staring back at Charlotte from the mirror hardly looked familiar. She was an older woman, surely. The kind of mature, worldly woman who lived in a little house owned by a man who was not her husband, perhaps. 

She shuddered.

'Are you well, Miss?'

'Yes... Just... a breeze.'

'Oh.' Atkins looked dubiously at the shut window. 'As long as you're not getting sick, Miss.'

'No, I do not believe so. Thank you for your efforts, Atkins.'

Atkins bobbed a quick curtsy and left.

The dress was a newer one, acquired during her visit to Susan and of the very best quality. The bright white lace was from Belgium, the pink silk from India. It fitted well, neither concealing nor exaggerating her unfashionable figure. 

There was nothing to be done now except to descend the stairs and face the world.

This she did with more determination than she actually felt, and her hand gripped the bannister hard as she took the stairs one by one.

The sound of foot-on-stair brought Mary out of the sitting room. 'Oh, Charlotte!'

She reached out to hold Charlotte's hands and the latter allowed her friend to lead her down the last couple of steps and into the sitting room.

'Lady Susan returned to her lodgings,' Mary said. 'She was glad to see you rest at last.'

'I am mortified.'

'Why? You have done nothing wrong!'

'When has that ever stopped a person being vilified by society?' Charlotte winced at how bitter she sounded. 'I apologise. I am still weary and sick to my stomach at all that has happened. I brought this into your house and-'

'No such thing. We may blame _that woman _and we may even blame Sidney - just a little, dear - but what have you to be blamed for?'

'I baited her. I ought not-'

'She would try the patience of a _saint_. Sit. Have some tea with me. Are you hungry? I will have something made-'

'I cannot eat. But tea sounds nice.' Charlotte sat down by the window. She had barely been up for five minutes and yet sitting down was a relief indeed. 'What is- what is being said?'

'Oh, I hardly know-'

'Mary, you know everything that happens in this town.'

Mary sighed and leaned back in her own seat once she'd poured tea. 'There is talk. A lot of it.'

'Oh.'

'But it is universally in your favour. All the talk is about how Mrs Campion attacked you and made foul, baseless accusations.'

At that point, Mr Hodges burst into the room. 'I beg your pardon, Mrs Parker.'

'Of course, Hodges. Whatever is the matter?'

'Mr Parker is coming up the street.'

'That hardly-'

'_Mr Sidney _is on his way here.'

Mary sprang to her feet. 'Right. Well... Charlotte dear, you must forgive me a moment. Important business with-'

'The children, madam.'

'Yes, Hodges. The children. I will be back... shortly.' With that, Mary left the room as if her feet were on fire, followed by Mr Hodges.

Charlotte had only a moment to consider all that had just happened, and the news Mr Hodges bore, before the front door slammed open and a set of heavy footsteps drew closer.

Sidney must have been directed into the room for the speed with which he reached her. He looked to have had a night as disturbed as her own, though he was as dandily turned out as always. 

He had not even handed off his cane and now twirled it in his hand for lack of other options. 'Charlotte.'

She remained seated, hands in her lap. 'Mr Parker?'

'Where is Mary?'

'Business with the children... apparently.'

'Fortuitous.' He set his cane down against the fireplace. 

'Sir?'

Sidney took Mary's recently vacated seat and gulped down her abandoned tea in two quick mouthfuls. He winced. 'That's hot.'

'Mr Parker, I really am on the edge of my last nerve and I beg you to-'

'My engagement is broken, Charlotte.'

Just like that, the bottom fell out of her stomach and the floor fell away. She half expected to look down and find nothing beneath her but a gaping chasm leading all the way down to Hell itself.

'Broken?'

'Yes. Mrs Campion released me from it not more than five minutes ago.'

'I cannot believe she would-'

'She was given to see the wisdom of such a choice.'

'Oh.'

Sidney's smile was slow and a little wry. 'Is that all you have to say? It is a momentous occasion.'

'I am not sure what there is for me to say. An engagement between two persons entirely unrelated to me is hardly-'

He startled her then by dropping from the chair to his knees. He grasped at her hands, still in her lap. 'I cannot publicly announce an engagement so soon without giving rise to more gossip. But, I will not wait another moment to ask you, Miss Heywood, to put me out of my misery and become my wife.'

The ground underneath her fell away again, then remade itself. Her head swum and she could not quite believe the words she heard issue from his mouth. She had imagined them in so many ways, after all.

'Put you out of your misery, sir? she asked. 'Would that be all?'

He chuckled then and pressed a kiss to each set of her knuckles. 'Dearest Charlotte, please. I had lost hope until I saw you again... I could make grand declarations but those just got in the way last time. I love you, be my wife? Please.'

There was beauty in the simplicity of this question. The anguish of the past year dissolved into the air like steam. 

'Yes, of course.'

For a moment, Sidney dropped his head in her lap. It was incredibly inappropriate and sent a jolt of _something _through her. She let her fingers run through his hair quite of their own accord until he looked up, unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

'Thank you,' he whispered.

They were to have no further time to themselves, for Mary's voice called out from somewhere nearby: 'Sidney, is that you?'

He had just enough time - suspiciously so, as if by design, which Charlotte was now convinced the whole thing was - to stand up and dry his eyes.

'Sidney!' Mary came in. 'Did it all go as you hoped?'

There was an uncharacteristic tremor in his voice: 'All of it, Mary.'

At this, Mary leapt at him and enveloped him in a hug of the most sisterly affections. Sidney returned it, a broad and dazzling smile upon his face.

'Now,' Mary said with a satisfied smile of her own. 'That is the Sidney I remember from so long ago.'

'No,' he disagreed. 'I am altogether better now. But... I defy any man to prove he is happier than me at this very moment.'

Mary sighed. 'You will have to wait a while.'

'I do not mind,' Charlotte found her own voice. 'As long as _we _know. I will write to my father, of course.'

'How long ought we wait, do you think?' Sidney frowned. 'I hardly wish to wait another minute, let alone weeks.'

'Give it six weeks at least,' Mary advised, and at this, he looked fit to punch a hole in a window. 

'That is impossible-'

'For_ Charlotte_, if nothing else.'

'Very well.'

'I am so very, very happy for you,' Mary kissed Charlotte's cheek. 'At long last!'

A strange bubbling feeling hit Charlotte fully in the stomach. It took a moment to work up into her throat and then- and then, she burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggling.

'Are you well?' Sidney was back at her side in a trice. 'Charlotte?'

She fought to catch her breath. 'It is all... I can hardly believe... I am not so lucky as this-'

'I am the lucky one,' he argued firmly. 'But I reluctantly agree with Mary. We will keep this news between us for now.'

'I must tell Susan,' Charlotte replied. 'She has been too good and kind to me.'

'Of course,' he agreed so quickly that Mary all but laughed in his face. 'I am glad to be a source of amusement for you, sister.'

His scowl could not hold, however, and the occupants of the room were treated to the extraordinary sight of big, bad, terrible Sidney Parker throwing his head back and laughing - some might allege, _giggling_.

All was, for that moment and in that room, well.


	19. A Few Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the marvellous response to the previous chapter - I had it in mind for a while so I'm glad it worked!
> 
> I've got a chest infection at the moment so I'm trying to recover and my brain is a bit fuzzy, so updates and replies might be a bit slow on this and the other two. But this spewed forth from my brain this morning so... have it, for what it's worth.

If Sidney Parker and Charlotte Heywood thought they were being discreet in their joy, they would one day be quite disabused of this notion.

It was true that their valiant attempts at discretion allowed everyone to turn a blind eye and pretend that they didn't know a  _ thing _ , but it was also true that the entire town of Sanditon had been watching them so closely for so long that it could not ignore the contented serenity that had descended upon Parker since the broken engagement and Campion's return to London, nor was it blind to the brightening of dear Miss Heywood's smile.

But, they could all pretend for as long as was necessary.

Two mornings after the Regatta, however, a call by Diana Parker disrupted everything. She was even more overwrought than usual, hands fluttering and voice at its shrillest. She did not stay still for a single moment: a particularly agitated hummingbird.

'It's Arthur!' she cried to Mary and Charlotte, who had just sat down to drink tea. 'He's terribly unwell! I've called for the doctor but- oh!'

It was unfair of course, but nobody took her seriously. Not even Dr Fuchs, who gathered his bag and dutifully trotted over to the house - until he saw Arthur.

Arthur was abed, redfaced and sweating, yet complaining that he was freezing cold under four blankets.

'Ah, greetings Doctor!' he spoke with a trembling voice. 'How kind of you to come, and you brought your pet monkey!'

'Monkey, Herr Parker?' Dr Fuchs frowned.

'Yes, although I'd rather he didn't climb on the curtains if it's all the same to you.'

There was no monkey, of course, but at least Dr Fuchs was clear that Arthur was hallucinating. He asked Diana a series of questions about Arthur's health that went into rather more detail about bodily functions than might be proper, but she answered all with direct frankness that would surprise anyone who knew her well.

'He is in the grip of a fever,' the doctor said, rather stating the obvious. 'We must bring his temperature down. Send a note to the ice house and get him into an ice bath. I will check on him again this afternoon.'

Diana thought for just a moment, then with great calmness, gave him a nod. 'Yes, Doctor.'

The note sent, they turned to another issue - their household was made up mostly of fairly elderly staff that had been with the Parker family since they were children and none of them was capable of moving someone of Arthur's size.

And that was how Diana ended up at Trafalgar House in a fluttersome state.

'We haven't any- and I thought perhaps-'

Mary stood up and helped Diana into her seat. 'We will help, dearest. Of course we will. Between Tom and Sidney and perhaps Mr Hodges too.'

'Oh, that will help! I must get back - the ice should be arriving at any moment.'

'We'll come with you,' Charlotte replied, rising to her feet.

'Oh, you hardly need-'

'It is no trouble.'

'What if he's  _ infectious _ !'

'I am made of sturdy enough stock,' Charlotte joked. 'But Mary, perhaps you should stay here - the children.'

Mary hesitated. 'All right.'

'Well,' Diana said. 'Miss Heywood, you ought not to concern yourself. I mean, Arthur is not family-'

'He will be, soon enough,' Charlotte replied without thinking. 'I mean- never mind.'

Diana's eyelids fluttered again - she did not seem to notice Charlotte's slip. 'Come along, then. Mary, you will send my brothers?'

'I will send Mr Hodges to fetch them immediately.'

Charlotte and Diana rushed through Sanditon town to the little cottage where Diana and Arthur had their home. It was a pleasant abode right by the beach with a neat little garden and a blue front door.

'We must open the windows,' Charlotte said. 'Get some fresh air into the house.'

'I always thought one ought not to expose the patient so.'

'My mother always said fresh air cures almost all ailments before they can even take hold. Now, where is your bath?'

It was the work of some minutes to get windows open and the bath ready in the kitchen for the arrival of ice and by the time they were done, both ladies were perspiring from the effort - there was nobody to help.

'I sent the staff away,' Diana said. 'Mrs Lees is very old and I did not want her to catch whatever Arthur has. I am sure it is from him falling into the river! Foolish boy! And dear Edwards suffers with his chest, so I would much rather he not be exposed...'

It was evident to Charlotte that Diana spoke and acted from a place of deep caring. Just like Sidney - and like him, it displayed to outsiders as something else, except in Diana's case it manifested as hyperbolic fussing.

Upon seeing Arthur, Charlotte realised that at least time, Diana was not exaggerating. He was waxen-faced, sweating profusely and yet shivering violently.

'Diana?' he cried out, pained and weakly. 'That you?'

'Yes, Arthur dear. Sidney and Tom are on their way.'

'Oh, that's good. What about Mother and Father?'

'What about them?'

'Are they coming?'

Diana looked fit to burst into tears. 'Mother and Father?'

'Yes. They said they were coming to visit and they wouldn't say something they didn't mean. And anyway, what are you doing here?'

'Doing here?'

'At school. Girls aren't allowed in school.'

'Well,' Diana took a deep breath. 'I'm here to look after you while you're unwell, dear.'

'Oh, I see.'

The front door opened downstairs and within a moment Sidney was there.

'Arthur, what have you got yourself into this time?' he asked, all false jollity for his brother's benefit.

'Sidney!'

He turned now to Diana and Charlotte. 'We passed the ice cart on its way here; Tom is with them now. Where's the bath?'

'In the kitchen.'

He shed his jacket and draped it on the end of Arthur's bed. 'Better to bring it up here than try and get Arthur downstairs in his state.'

Diana started to protest about the state of her floors but Sidney wasn't listening as he went back downstairs. He returned a minute or so later, carrying the tin bath like it weighed almost nothing, although the strain in his arms suggested otherwise.

'Arthur,' he said, with great tenderness. 'We're going to get you into a bath.'

'Oh yes, that sounds very well. A nice hot bath is just the thing.'

Sidney did not rush to correct him. Some short time after this, Tom arrived with the icemen and it was short work for them to have the bath half-filled with ice. 

Tom saw them off and the ladies excused themselves from the room while Arthur's brothers hauled him from the bed to the bath. 

Charlotte heard Arthur's agonised scream as his feverish skin touched the ice, then a sigh of relief.

'I will make some tea,' she said. 'I am sure we are all in direst need.'

Mostly, Charlotte did this to have something to do, although she might not have rushed to do so before discovering that the kitchen fire had been allowed to die down and she was obliged to light it again before putting the kettle of water to boil.

The water was warming up when Sidney entered, shirt soaked and hands red-raw from the cold ice. Charlotte rushed to him. 

'Goodness, your hands!'

'Ah, tisn't much.' Still, he did not object to her taking his hands in her own to warm them. 'Good morning, Miss Heywood.'

'Miss Heywood, after all?'

'Ah,' he smiled. 'I wish to make the most of it while I can, for you will not be Miss Heywood any longer than I can help it, Charlotte.'

She blushed at that and ventured to lean her head against his ' _ Sidney _ ...'

'I do like that sound.'

'Will Arthur recover, do you think?'

'Of course. He's a Parker and we do not give up so easily.'

She chuckled. 'So I have come to understand!'

'Have you heard from your father?'

'I only wrote yesterday!'

'And I sent the letter by courier.'

'Impatient man!'

'When it comes to you, I can hardly be blamed for that.'

'I suppose not.'

At the sound of Tom's heavy footsteps on the stairs, they separated. There was no possible way to tell Tom of their betrothal  _ and _ keep it a quiet, private matter.

'I am sure he will be well imminently!' Tom declared with all the confidence of a man with no medical training. 'Ah, Charlotte, good of you to come and assist! And making tea, just the ticket.'

Mercifully, Tom did not linger then.

'Sidney?'

'Yes, Charlotte?'

'Will you send for Georgiana? Now Mrs Campion is gone, there can be no reason for keeping her away from the people that love her.'

'I have written to invite her at her earliest convenience. If she chooses to stay in Hertfordshire, I will not demand her return. Sanditon does not have uniformly good memories for her.'

'Thank you. Will she... That is when we are married-' she blushed again. 'Will she live with us?'

'If you wish it.'

'I do. If she wants it, I mean. She has been sidelined for more than long enough.'

'If you both wish it, then of course.'

She flung herself at him then. 'Thank you!'

'Between you both, I will have no peace.'

She grinned wickedly. 'No, you will not.'

*

Dr Fuchs attended Arthur later that day and prescribed another ice bath, for the fever had not yet broken. Someone was always at Arthur's side, doing their best to keep him cool and comfortable, but as each hour stretched on into the next, all began to feel most worrisome and serious.

After so long stuck in a cycle of fearful hypochondria, in the face of genuinely serious illness, Diana Parker found her backbone. Nobody could do more for Arthur, nobody attended him with less complaint or more focus. She assisted Dr Fuchs in whatever manner he requested and she only stood back in those moments where she could not do anything, which was really only in moving him to and from the ice bath.

On the third day, Charlotte arrived at the cottage to find Diana hefting bags of ice from the garden to the house. Diana was not used to any kind of physical labour so struggled and sweated as she did.

Charlotte rushed forward to catch the bottom of the bag Diana was dragging. 'Diana, let me help!'

'Oh, this is the last of it. The men from the ice house were due at Lady Denham's so hadn't time to bring it all into the house.'

'You didn't have to-'

'Dr Fuchs said we should try the ice bath one more time. If his fever doesn't break soon, he'll-' Diana's composure cracked a little, and to Charlotte's surprise, she recovered quickly. 'He will not survive. And that simply won't do.'

'Of course. Let me take this last bag, Diana. Sit down.'

The sack was rough against her hands and heavy indeed but Charlotte got it all the way up to the bath. Arthur was likely in a worse state than when she saw him the day before. Sidney was his current companion but had fallen into a light doze at the bedside. A scruff of beard growth shadowed his face; his cravat was untied and tossed aside, his sleeves rolled up and his boots set aside. 

Despite the situation, Charlotte's heart could not help but skip a beat to see him so unguarded, so intimately situated. She reached out to touch his face and he stirred immediately. His eyes were unfocused for a moment.

'Charlotte?'

'It is morning, dearest.' Another thrill shot through her at the novelty of being able to use such affectionate labels with  _ Sidney.  _ 'You should eat something. Or at least drink some tea.'

'Who brought all this ice in?'

'Diana.'

' _ Diana _ ?'

'Yes. I arrived as she was hauling the final sack.'

'I shall have to speak to the proprietor of the ice house. Leaving a woman to-'

'Shh. Come and have some tea.'

'I cannot leave Arthur.'

'I will sit with him, then.'

'You need not-'

'The sooner you go, the sooner you can return.'

He sighed and stood with some difficulty after being folded into an uncomfortable chair for so long. She steadied him a moment.

'Loveliest Charlotte,' he murmured. 'I do not deserve you.'

'Of course you do.' 

'I wrote to Georgiana,' he said. 'I hope she will be back in a few days.'

'Good. Go, now.' Charlotte replaced him in the chair and fluttered a hand at the door to shoo him away. He shuffled out, rolling his shoulders. She reached for Arthur's hand, that in his restless, delirious sleep, he might know he was not alone.

*

Mercifully, the final ice bath seemed to break something in the fever that gripped Arthur and soon - if not soon enough for his family - Arthur began to recover.

Four days after first falling ill, Arthur opened his eyes and looked out with a clear mind.

'Water?' he croaked. 'Might I get some water?'

Diana squeaked with delight and rushed to pour him a glass of water. 'I will fetch Dr Fuchs, dear Arthur!'

Dr Fuchs quickly ascertained that Arthur had thrown off the malaise quite completely, although he warned that recovery might take some time.

'Thank you, Dr Fuchs.' Sidney shook his hand. 'We are grateful for your work on Arthur's behalf.'

'Yes, I'm especially grateful,' Arthur joked.

Diana also reached out to shake his hand. 'Thank you, Doctor. We are very grateful indeed.'

The doctor bowed to her neatly: 'Danke schön, Fraulein Parker. I will leave you all now.' This he did, and then the Parkers were alone: Arthur, Diana and Sidney.

Arthur yawned. 'So, what did I miss?'

Diana laughed a moment, then burst into tears. Arthur reached up to pat her hand. 'There, there. All's well that ends well.'

'It very nearly did not end well! I was so afraid! You must not get sick again.'

'I will do my very best,' he promised. 'You know, I had such strange dreams while I was ill. I thought I saw Mother and Father, and I thought I even saw into the future.'

'Fever will do that,' Sidney said. 'Worry not'

'Oh, I'm not worried,' Arthur said. 'The future looked very fine indeed!'

'Yes?'

Arthur grinned rather mysteriously. 'Oh, yes.'

'I am glad.' Sidney humoured him. 'I will let Mrs Lees know it is safe to return, and I will arrange for her to be paid for the last few days.'

'You don't need to-'

'Worry not.'

Arthur observed him carefully, curiously. 'Something has happened.'

Sidney did his best to feign ignorance. 'Happened?'

'You are...' Arthur tried to sit up but was obliged to wait while Diana fluffed his pillows first. 'What has happened to put a smile on your face?'

He tried to wipe the smile from his face but it had been fixed there since Charlotte had accepted his proposal. 'You must both promise not to say anything to anyone for the time being.'

'What?' Diana asked, leaning forward.

'You must give your word.'

'Oh, yes. Yes, what it is?' she asked.

'Arthur?'

'Of course, brother.'

'Charlotte and I are engaged.' The smile broadened at the mere mention.

'How can that be?' Arthur frowned. 'What of Eliza?'

Sidney explained - he had forgotten Arthur was not at the ball after his dip in the river - and brought them both up to date.

'That is a relief,' Arthur's eyelids fluttered as he grew fatigued once more. 'I hated to see you so unhappy. I am excessively glad for you, dear brother.'

'Thank you, Arthur. Now, you really ought to rest. We will check on you soon.'

'Go home, Sidney,' Arthur yawned as he started to fall asleep. 'Miss Heywood must be missing you.'

Sidney did not need to be told twice.

*

Mary was on her way out when Sidney arrived at Trafalgar House.

'Sidney! I was leaving to see Arthur. How is he?' He explained briefly, to her enormous relief. 'Oh, I am so  _ glad _ ! I will go now. Charlotte and Lady Susan are taking tea in the sitting room at the moment, and I am sure they will both be very happy to see you.'

Mary left then, and Sidney went to the sitting room.

'Good morning, ladies.'

He managed not to laugh at how Charlotte startled, which was more than Lady Susan achieved.

'Dear Charlotte,' she said with great fondness. 'You ought never to play cards seriously.'

'Good advice,' he agreed.

'How is your brother, Mr Parker?' Lady Susan asked. 

'Much improved, I am happy to say.'

'That is excellent news!'

'Indeed it is.'

'Along with other news Charlotte shared.' Lady Susan quirked an eyebrow at him. 'I hear Mrs Campion returned to London without plans to return here.'

'That is true.'

'You see,' Lady Susan said. 'Love tends to triumph in the end.'

'I am glad we were not forced to wait until the end,' he replied. 'For otherwise I would not be able to spend the next few decades ensuring Charlotte's happiness.'

Susan beamed at him and got to her feet. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek. 'I do like you, Sidney Parker. Now, I really must go.'

'Go?' Charlotte asked, quite confused even as Sidney realised what Susan was about. 'You only arrived ten minutes ago!'

'Oh, I quite forgot I have a... dress fitting. I shall have to love you and leave you, my dears.'

Susan could not have left quicker without breaking into an undignified run.

Sidney and Charlotte were quite alone and they were both keenly aware of the fact in the silent moments that stretched between Susan leaving the room and the front door opening and closing.

'Do you... can I make you a cup of tea, Sidney?'

'Thank you, yes.' He hesitated a moment before taking the seat Susan recently vacated. 'The last time we sat like this... I thought I might never be happy ever again.'

'I know.' She slid the cup and saucer over to him and he roundly ignored them. 'All will be well. But...'

'But?'

'Have you not yet heard from my father?'

'No.'

'How unlike him.'

'Did you... did you tell him about last year?'

'Of course not!'

'So he has no immediate cause to detest me?'

'None at all.'

'That is a relief.' He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers with his own. 'Thank you for your kindness to Diana and Arthur these last few days.'

'They are kind, good people. And soon to be my family. I am so glad he will be well. I was so afraid...' Several tears dropped from her face. 'It felt like we were being punished for our happiness. Except the punishment was inflicted on Arthur.'

'That is hardly how it works.'

'But-'

Sidney darted forward to press a quietening kiss to her mouth, knocking into the tea set as he did. 'Put such dark thoughts from your mind. All is well.'

She looked pleasantly dazed. 'Do that again?'

He did.

*

The passing of twenty minutes or so found them settled comfortably on the sofa, entangled in a manner that days ago would've been unthinkable. They were careful - scrupulous even - to keep themselves from getting too carried away, if only from sheer terror that Mary might return home sooner than expected, or that the children might suddenly barrel down from the nursery.

It was frustrating but necessary and proved the wisest possible course of action when there was a knock on the front door. Hodges went to answer it of course, and this gave them enough time to right themselves - and the tea set - before he appeared in the doorway.

'A Mr Heywood, Mr Parker.'

Oh good grief. He looked Charlotte over to check her appearance and saw her doing the same for him.

'How to explain our lack of chaperone?' she asked, looking around the room for possible ideas and finding none.

Sidney cleared his throat. 'Mr Hodges, please show Mr Heywood into the drawing-room and arrange for a fresh pot of tea to be brought up. I will be with him very shortly. Charlotte, stay here, just a minute or two.'

Hodges nodded and went to do as instructed.

Charlotte frowned 'Are you sure-'

'Yes. Now, do I look presentable enough?'

'I think so.' She reached up and adjusted his cravat. 'There.'

He pressed a final kiss to her cheek. 'I love you.'

She smiled. 'Be brave, Mr Parker. He is not so very frightening once you get to know him.'

An eye-roll that made her laugh. 'You fill me with confidence.'

*


	20. A Formidable Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! As you might've seen, I was concentrating on Like A Permanent Holiday for a bit, and work was... annoyingly intrusive.
> 
> A bit of a filler chapter perhaps, but I hope you enjoy!

Mr Heywood was quite capable, when warranted, of being a most formidable figure. He had been a leader of men and the master of his domain for decades, and it showed. Even just standing in the Parkers' drawing-room, he was a man who demanded respect. 

His suit and shoes were not the finest, grandest or most fashionable, but his bearing was one of confidence, and in this specific instance some grim determination, as he turned to face the man who was apparently to marry his eldest daughter.

Sidney took a breath and stepped into the room with his hand outstretched. 'Mr Heywood. I must apologise that my brother and Mary are not here to greet you. My brother Arthur has been very ill and Mary is with him.'

Mr Heywood's right eyebrow rose with a curiously suspicious manner that reminded Sidney very much of Charlotte, although with a more world-weary aspect than she possessed. 'And Mr _ Thomas _ Parker?'

'Sanditon business, as usual. I am most glad to meet you at last.' Sidney thrust his hand forward in greeting.

Mr Heywood hesitated a moment but took the offered hand in a firm shake. 'Likewise.'

'I take it you received my letter, sir?' Sidney was careful to phrase it as a question as he beckoned to Mr Heywood to sit down.

Again, Mr Heywood hesitated before taking the offered armchair. He flicked the tails of his coat aside as he did. 'A more extraordinary and unexpected letter I do not think I have received in my entire life.'

'You have questions, I am sure-'

'To say the least, Mr Parker.'

'If you have time, I will be most happy to recount the entire set of facts to you, as I understand them.'

'In matters pertaining to my daughter, Mr Parker, I have nothing but time.'

'Good.' Sidney cleared his throat. 'I should begin some time ago. Last summer, in actual fact...'

*

Charlotte had intended to follow Sidney after a minute or two, but in Mary's absence she was called to assist when James tripped and needed comfort, then she was pulled in to read a story Jenny had written for her younger brothers, then to mediate a disagreement between Henry and Alicia.

By the time she could take a breath, a significant amount of time had passed. She rushed back downstairs as quick as could be, to find Sidney and her father deep in discussion. A tea tray had been sent for, delivered and devoured, if the empty cups and be-crumbed cake plate were anything to go by.

'Father, I am so happy to see you! Is everyone at home well?'

'Yes, yes.' He stood and embraced her. 'Your Mr Parker has been regaling me with quite a tale, Charlotte.'

'Has he?' She tried not to heave a sigh of relief at the mention of _ her _ Mr Parker. 

'He has. It seems to me that this proposal ought to more properly have come immediately after your _ first _ visit to London.'

Charlotte knew her father well and knew that he was deeply displeased. 'Now, you really must not blame Sidney for-'

'Blame Sidney, Charlotte? I do not blame Mr Parker altogether. The whole story has set me very ill-at-ease. I ought not to have let you come here at all.'

'Father-'

'However, it is much, much too late for such regrets now. I can only grant my consent and hope that your future life will be a good deal more settled than the past year.'

'Thank you!' She bounced at him, pressing kisses on his face like she was a small child again. 'Thank you!'

'Do not think that I am satisfied or content, Charlotte. Although... it does help to explain why you were so unlike yourself when you returned last year.'

'Unlike myself?'

'You were very quiet.'

Sidney snorted a laugh at that, earning a scowl from Miss Heywood and a chortle from her father. 'I was just about to tell your father about the Regatta and the Ball.'

'Mr Parker, you have still_ not _adequately explained how you came to be engaged to _my _daughter, sir.'

'I assure you, we are close to the matter.'

'We are,' Charlotte added, taking a seat pointedly close to Sidney's.

Mr Heywood sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as he returned to his seat. 'Get on with it, then.'

*

Mary Parker arrived home from seeing Arthur find Charlotte, Sidney and Mr Heywood sat in her drawing-room drinking tea. The atmosphere was generallyamiable, but she could hardly blame Mr Heywood for any reservations he might have. He had, after all, placed his daughter in the Parkers' care when all this had occurred.

'Mary!' Charlotte leapt up. 'My father is here.'

She greeted him warmly. 'I am very happy to see you again, Mr Heywood. Was your journey pleasant?'

'Uneventful, Mrs Parker.'

'Thank you. Do you need more tea? Will you be staying with us?'

'I had thought to take a room at the hotel.'

'They are quite full, sir,' Sidney said. 'I took the last available room until a fortnight's time.'

'You took a room?' Mr Heywood's eyes might have bored a hole right through Sidney's skull.

To Sidney's credit, he did not flinch. 'It was not quite appropriate, we felt, in the circumstances for me to remain here.'

'In the circumstances, Mr Parker, I quite agree.'

It was clear to Mary that Mr Heywood was not fully resolved to the engagement, but he was not hostile or openly opposed either, so she said nothing. 

'I will arrange a room for you here, Mr Heywood. You will be very welcome. It is the least we can do after you have shared dear Charlotte with us for two summers now.'

He was too polite to say what was clearly written over his face: that had he any idea what was to happen, he would never have granted permission for Charlotte to come to Sanditon at all.

'Tom will be home soon enough,' Mary told them. 'Dinner will be a very merry party, I think.'

'How is Arthur?' Charlotte asked.

Mary took the subject change for the plea it was. 'He is still awfully weak but very much improved. What a relief.'

'I am very glad to hear the younger Mr Parker is well,' Mr Heywood said, quite sincere now. 'He sounds like a solid young fellow.'

'I am fortunate in both my brothers-in-law,' Mary replied with a pointed glance at Sidney. 'They are both good, kind men-'

'Yes, yes.' Mr Heywood cracked then. 'I am sure Mr Sidney Parker is absolutely perfect - excepting all the evidence to the contrary.'

'Papa!'

Mr Heywood waved a hand at her. 'You must allow me a moment's teasing after the ordeal you have put me through. What a tale.'

'Sidney _ is _ a good man!' Charlotte replied fiercely. 'And you are unkind to tease-'

'Dear me, Charlotte unable to take a joke! She must be dreadfully in love. Very well, dear child. I shall not tease you or your Mr Parker for at least a day.'

'Thank you.' She sat, hands folded primly in her lap. Then, she cracked a slight smile. 'You were not expecting all that when you arrived, I suppose?'

'Not in the slightest. I am deeply concerned about what has occurred here.'

'Well, none of it is Mary's fault! Or Sidney's!'

'Then all the blame is yours?'

Sidney objected firmly to this: 'Most certainly not! Miss Heywood did what she thought was right. Her being proven... mistaken at times-'

'Diplomatically put, Mr Parker. Very well. As I said before, regrets are a waste of time now. You will be married, of course.'

'And do we have your blessing, Papa?'

Mr Heywood glared at Sidney, then he sighed. 'I suppose you must, although I do hope my other daughters find themselves more agreeable suitors.'

The front door opened and then slammed shut again. In moments, Tom Parker bounded into the room rather more like an excited puppy than a grown human man.

'Good news, my dear family- Mr Heywood! What a pleasure to see you again! Let me share with you the latest news regarding this fine little resort!'

None of them was particularly inclined to stop Tom and so he talked - and talked, and talked - until it came time to dress for dinner.

Lady Susan and Mr Stringer were also invited to dinner and so it was a larger group than expected when Tom stood to toast Sidney and Charlotte.

'I am glad to raise a toast to my fine younger brother Sidney and our dear Charlotte! How happy you will make each other as husband and wife!'

At that moment, it became obvious that Mr Stringer was not yet aware. He went very pale but recovered quickly to join good wishes.

'When,' he asked, looking directly at Sidney, 'do you plan to marry?'

'Soon, I hope. But in consideration of Mrs Campion's feelings, to say nothing of the avoidance of any scandal, we do not expect to make the betrothal itself public for at least two months, then we hope to marry as soon as may be after that.'

'So,' Mary looked at Tom particularly. 'Do be discreet for now.'

'Of course!' 

'I am very happy for you, Miss Heywood,' Mr Stringer said, finally meeting her gaze. 

'Thank you, Mr Stringer. It has been a longer journey than either of us might have wished for, but all is coming well after all.'

*

Nothing more was said of the betrothal for the rest of the evening and indeed, Mr Stringer said very little.

'Forgive me, Mr Stringer,' Charlotte whispered as they said their goodnights. 'I had no idea Tom was going to- I hoped to share the news myself.'

Mr Stringer sighed. 'I am happy for you, Miss Heywood, as long as _he _is more respectful of you than he was of Mrs Campion. Will he spend his nights at the alehouse as he has been? Everyone knows-'

'You have no cause to worry,' Charlotte interrupted, quite weary of other men making assumptions about them that day. 'Indeed, if you ask in the tavern you will find Mr Parker has not been there for some time.'

'I may just do that, Miss Heywood. For your sake.'

'Good night, Mr Stringer. I appreciate your concern but it is unwarranted.'

'As you say, Miss Heywood. Good night.'

There was a rock of unpleasant feeling in Charlotte's belly as she went to bed that night. Mr Heywood was, for his teasing and pleasant attitude, not happy with her. She could hardly blame him. Mr Stringer too, was displeased, although she could hardly be blamed for that, surely?

She went to her window before undressing, to look out at the stars. Instead, her eye was drawn to a figure stood outside the hotel, leaning against the portico pillar and smoking.

It was too dark to see anything more than a shadow of the man, but Sidney was unmistakable and raised a hand in salute. Her whole being felt warm all over from being seen by that particular person - had he been looking up at her window?

It would not do to be seen, so she waved her hand for a moment and retreated away from the glass.

Her father _had _given consent, if not with a full-throated blessing, and she _was _going to marry Sidney. The rock in her stomach dissolved then, for nothing else really mattered very much. All, she was determined, would be well.


	21. The Slow Passage of Time Spent Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, my dears. Work, you see... 
> 
> One piece of advice for any writers out there: always keep the momentum going as much as you can. Losing it is deadly for a story and resuming is tough.
> 
> So, hopefully you'll enjoy this one. I think this particular story is coming towards its end..........
> 
> This chapter sponsored by George Harrison and Phil Ochs on Spotify.

It was a simple plan: keep the betrothal private - not secret exactly, merely _private_ \- for two months.

The morning after dinner with Mr Heywood, Sidney came down from his hotel room after a restful night and was almost immediately accosted by the owner, Mr Appleton, who took his hand and shook it most effusively. 

'Ah, Mr Parker! We are to wish you joy! I had wondered at you taking a room with us and now-'

'Excuse me, I am at a loss-'

'Your wedding!'

Sidney sighed. 'You are mistaken, sir. Mrs Campion released-'

'Oh, not _her_! Our lovely Miss Heywood!'

'I had not- I mean to ask, from where did you receive such news?'

Mr Appleton paused. 'I can't rightly remember. Someone told me earlier. We had a lot of deliveries today, and I'm right sure that everyone was speaking about it. We're all very pleased for you, Mr Parker-'

'Thank you. I must... go.'

'Give Miss Heywood our kindest regards!'

'Yes,' Sidney's mind was halfway out the door already. 'Yes.'

The residents and guests of Trafalgar House were almost certainly still at breakfast, and it was too early to visit, but with this new information in mind, Sidney crossed the street to go inside.

He was hallooed and greeted by several other Sanditonites all eager to share their congratulations before he made it to the sanctuary of the house.

The children were at breakfast with their family, and Jenny almost leapt out of her seat at sight of him.

'Uncle Sidney!'

'Good morning.' In deference to Mr Heywood, he bowed and made proper greetings. 'I apologise for the early hour but felt I should inform you at once that the news of our betrothal is already a matter of public knowledge. I know not how, only that it is.'

'That is disappointing,' Charlotte replied, putting down her teacup. 'I had hoped we might avoid the scandal.'

'It was treated as the very best news,' he said. 'No scandal.'

'That is heartening. Even so, I cannot... I fear...'

He knelt at her side, entirely without thinking of their audience, and took her hand. 'Do not fear, Charlotte. All will be well.'

Mr Heywood cleared his throat a little and Sidney sprang back to his feet.

'Perhaps this means you might be married sooner?' Tom suggested.

'I think not,' Mr Heywood said. 'I will not have any whispering about my Charlotte. All will proceed as agreed. We are to return home two days' hence-'

Charlotte dropped her fork. 'That was not agreed-'

'You might not have been attending, but it was,' he replied. 'It is hardly fair to your mother or brothers and sisters to keep you away from home all summer long only to then send you off forever.'

Sidney squeezed her hand. 'It is a wise plan, Mr Heywood.'

Mr Heywood rolled his eyes at Sidney, who got the feeling that no answer he could give would be quite the right one. 'Mr Parker will be busy, in any case, with his solicitor. There are papers to be drawn up and signed.'

*

Matters proceeded exactly as Mr Heywood had agreed with Sidney and Charlotte. The Heywoods stayed in Sanditon for two more days, and the father allowed the daughter to drag him all around the place in her quest to have him see what she loved so much about it. Privately, he could not see the fuss but allowed his previously-sensible daughter to have her excitement.

Sidney rode to London to meet his solicitor and found it almost impossible to ride away from Charlotte now that he knew she would be waiting. Still, it was necessary to make arrangements for being married and oh, how much more pleasant such administrative boredom was when he was to marry the woman he wanted to.

He wrote more letters in that period than he had in the preceding _decade_, it seemed. Matters of business, matters of matrimony, matters of _Dearest Charlotte, forgive me for such lachrymose prose but I find myself yearning for you when you are so far away. How I ever thought I could survive a lifetime without you... _

While attached to Eliza, London had been grim and grotesque. London engaged to Charlotte was a riot of possible gifts and notions of things for them to do once she was Mrs Parker. The house at Bedford Place seemed alive with possibilities. Would she want to share his rooms? What could he do to make them as lovely as she deserved them to be? 

He longed to walk through the parks with her, arm-in-arm. He wanted to take her to the theatre and spend the entire time trying to find a way to touch her without being spotted.

Sidney even wanted to attend a ball or two, that he might dance with her again. What a difference from the last time.

His time in London was as brief as he could make it. Once the documents were ready, he rode for Willingden. The weather was intermittently wet and the going soft enough that it took longer than intended and he was sure he looked a mess by the time the Heywood house came into view.

It was just as Charlotte had described and his heart grew warm at the sight of that pretty manor. He could easily see how someone would grow to be like Charlotte if this was home.

Sidney dismounted his weary horse, which was taken by a groom at once. He tried to tidy himself up: he ran a hand through his wet, unruly hair and tried to shake off some of the water and mud from his coat and boots... it was in vain.

The door opened and there - at last! - was Charlotte. She blushed prettily at first sight of him even as a dozen other Heywoods surrounded her as they moved towards him, a single mass with many heads, it seemed to him then.

Sidney had _almost _reached her, _almost _touched her hands when Mr Heywood poked his head out of a window. 'Ah, Mr Parker! You made it here safely, which is more than can be said for your brother last year.'

'I cannot find it in me to mind Tom's injury much,' Sidney admitted. 'For without it, I would not be here at all.'

'Come in, lad. I'll have a fresh pot of tea ready to drink when you are refreshed from the journey.'

Charlotte grazed her fingers across his hand even as he was obliged to turn and go to her father instead. He shivered and was suddenly _glad _for the mob around him, for they prevented him from behaviour unbecoming a supposed gentleman. 'Mama has arranged a room for you, Sidney.'

A small hand tugged at his sleeve: one of the youngest of the mob. 'I'll show you there!'

Another youthful voice hissed at him: 'Alfie, let Charlotte do it!'

'Charlotte can't!' another of the heads said. 'Mama says it's _ improper _!'

'Alfred is very _kind_,' Charlotte's voice cut firmly across them all. 'to be so thoughtful to our guest. Thank you, Alfie. Show Mr Parker where to remove his muddy boots first.'

Alfie was, Sidney very quickly learned from the boy himself, six years old and he liked fishing and swimming best of all things. He also learnt that the room Mrs Heywood had set aside for his use was _the very best because you can see the river from the window_.

It was a pleasant room with proper proportions and appointments. A jug of warm water waited for him on the stand, along with scented soap and a soft towel. A few minutes later, a member of the Heywood household brought his bag to him. It was quick work to change and make himself fit for their respectable company.

Mr Heywood waited in his bookroom, the promised tea fresh and hot. Sidney handed him the leather satchel of legal papers and his heart sank as Mr Heywood set it aside without a glance and proceeded to make excruciating small talk about London, the journey, the weather, horse racing, farming and... oh _God, _the man was mocking him.

'Has the summer treated you and yours well?' Sidney asked. 'I saw some very impressive plantings as I rode up.'

'The northern fields are our laboratory,' Mr Heywood explained. 'Where we test the wisdom of the latest fashions in farming methods. This year has been a good one. Last year... less so.'

A few more minutes of such conversation passed. 'Mr Heywood-'

'I will sign the papers,' he said, cracking a smile. 'Fear not, Mr Parker. Believe it or not, I take an interest in speaking to you without the constant defence mounted by my daughter, who seems to think it necessary to enumerate your many, varied strengths of character every time you come up in conversation. Which is far too many times for my taste, but I am quite outnumbered.'

'You are?'

'My many children have each decided that you must be the best of men for capturing Charlotte's heart. The youngest boys are determined to have you play at pirates with them; the elder wish for you to go hunting with them; the girls almost all want to hear every detail of your courtship - not the _actual_ details of course, but Charlotte has created a version that is at once truthful and leaves out most of the truth - and I'm certain Augusta wants you to teach her how to shoot.'

'I am-'

'You're very welcome to try. I don't tell my daughters they cannot do a thing because they are girls, but Aug hasn't much in the way of patience.'

Sidney took a breath. 'I will play at pirates; I will fish; I will hunt. I will teach Augusta to shoot - Charlotte mentioned it in a letter - but I will be blunt and ask: when may I see _Charlotte_?'

Mr Heywood's laughter boomed around the room, rattling the teacups in their saucers, it seemed. He glanced up at the clock. 'Oh, eventually, I expect. You lasted far longer than I expected, Mr Parker. Well done.'

'I am interested in all the subjects upon which our conversation has landed,' Sidney admitted. 'I would still prefer to see Charlotte.'

Mr Heywood scowled a moment. 'Has there been much talk of scandal in London?'

'Not a thing. I suspect Lady Susan has had something to do with it. She is a good friend for Charlotte to have.'

'Quite so. Your Mrs Campion has not sought to cause trouble?'

'She is not mine, and no. I have been reliably informed that she is for India.'

'_India_?'

'Her late husband left her significant interests there, and it may be that she finds herself a husband in the community there. It may be simple gossip without merit, of course.'

'I hope she finds happiness in whatever she does,' Mr Heywood said. He seemed in earnest, just as Charlotte had been before. 'Whatever she does - away from you and Charlotte of course.'

Sidney smiled tightly. 'That is my wish.'

Mr Heywood released him a few minutes later, with the apparently-unrelated remark that Charlotte tended to walk out and retrieve her various brothers and sisters from around the estate before dinner, and that she tended to walk first to the river for Alfie and Arthur.

So it was that Sidney strode in the suggested direction in hopes of finding her.

Find her, Sidney did. Charlotte, dressed in much plainer clothes than he had seen in Sanditon, was balanced on a fence watching as two of her youngest brothers scrambled around on the riverbank. As usual, her hair was loose and moved with the breeze. He yearned to reach out and-'

'Sidney!' Charlotte had seen him. She jumped down, landing neatly and launched herself at him almost before he had a chance to react.

She was _warm._ He grasped her as tight as he dared and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 'Charlotte...'

Alfie interrupted then: 'Sidney! Sidney, come and see!'

'They are fishing for minnows,' she explained, moving away but not letting go of his arm. 'They have been so eager to meet you.'

'Your father mentioned.'

'Eager but... they are not likely to be the most attentive of chaperones.'

'Teasing woman.'

She stood on tiptoes to kiss him soundly upon the mouth. 'Just one who loves you. And has missed you more than... how could I miss you more in the past two weeks than the whole time we were apart?'

'Because then we had no hope. And now we have a whole future awaiting us.'

'That must be it.' She squeezed his hand. 'Come and fish with us.'

'Are you not fetching them for dinner?'

She glanced up at the sun. 'Oh, not for a while yet. Is that what my father told you?'

He nodded, and she grinned. 'I _knew_ he liked you more than he pretends to!'

'Yes?'

'He gave you a way to escape the madness, dearest. As _annoying_ as Alfie and Arthur are...'

Her little brothers objected noisily to this assessment, sending her into a fit of laughter as they pulled her towards the water. For a moment, Sidney feared she was to get a dunking, but she hopped onto a set of stepping stones. 

'Will you help us catch fish, Sidney?' Alfie asked.

'Of course.'

'Charlotte says you have a brother called Arthur too,' said the younger of the two boys. 

Sidney knelt so that he did not tower over the young lads. 'I do. He is a few years your elder, so I do not think there will be much confusion. I am sure he will be delighted to meet you. Now, you must show me your method of fishing, for it has been a long time since I have tried this.'

They fished - played, in truth - for a half-hour, before Charlotte cleared her throat to get their attention. The boys rushed to wash their hands and arms of the mud they had accumulated before shoving their little feet back into their shoes.

'The last one back is a rotten egg!' Arthur yelled as he climbed over the fence. This set him and Alfie into a race and left Charlotte alone at the fence.

'May I help you over, Miss Heywood?'

'I am quite able to- oh. I suppose that would be kind and gentlemanly of you. Thank you, Mr Parker.'

Though her clothes were of a thicker cloth than her Sanditon muslins, his hands still burned at the feel of her. He ably assisted her over the fence she would've had no trouble climbing herself, then kept her arm tucked into his own. 

'How long do you suppose we have?'

'A moment, perhaps. Alfie will almost certainly run back for us.'

Sidney took the opportunity to kiss her then. His heart thumped in his chest, and he broke away at the first sound of little feet running towards them. 'Well.'

Charlotte's eyes were unfocused, and he almost laughed. 'Well. We ought to go back. I do not trust myself at _all. _You are a bad influence on me.'

'God, I hope so.'

*

Mr Heywood presented Sidney with the signed papers that night. 'Understand, Mr Parker, that if I ever hear that you have treated Charlotte unkindly, I will descend upon you and bring her home with absolutely no consideration towards the law or what a court may consider _your_ property. She will always, _always_ be one of us, and we take care of _us_.'

'If there ever comes a time that you must do so,' Sidney returned. 'I will deserve it. But, I am resolved to spend my life making her happy, Mr Heywood.'

'Pretty words must be accompanied by actions.'

'They will be.' 

'Have you partaken of strong drink while in London?'

Sidney frowned. 'No, sir. I have a reputation that was...' he laughed.

'Something amusing?'

'I nearly said my reputation is one I did not earn. Yet I must own that it is not _wholly_ unearned. It is, I assure you, no longer true.'

'Good.'

Sidney thought of the nights he'd spent in the Crown and the Denham Arms and of walking endlessly through the darkness. He shuddered and returned to more pleasant thoughts. 'Mrs Heywood and Charlotte have given me a long list of requirements for the wedding itself. I will be kept busy; it seems.'

'You are returning there tomorrow?'

Sidney sighed, not wishing to be away from Charlotte again. 'I am. Sanditon business is never done. But I would rather work towards its success than risk it all again.'

Mr Heywood's expression was inscrutable as he regarded Sidney for a moment so long that the younger man had to fight the urge to squirm. 'Good.'

*

The post between Sanditon and Willingden was frequent over the days and weeks that followed. Eliza left for India, taking her investments with her. Sidney was obliged to work all hours to arrange new investors. Lady Denham was still the biggest investor but had mercifully stopped threatening to withdraw. The latest regatta and a successful summer season brought interested investors _to_ Sidney, rather than the begging of last year.

The weeks passed quicker than he had feared they would. He filled his days with work and his evenings with either the Parkers or the Babingtons. He _slept_, and he regained a sense of being attached to the world. If he fought, it was for fun rather than to be beaten senseless for money.

He felt, in short, as much like himself as was possible without Charlotte close by. Sidney chose to use the time to make himself the best version of himself that might be possible so that the man Charlotte married was at least _almost _worthy of her.

Two months after the broken engagement, the first reading of the Parker-Heywood banns took place at the little church of St Mary's by the sea in Sanditon.

In the meantime, he knew Lady Susan had sent for Charlotte, her mother and sister Alison. They had been in London for some time, where they spent what Charlotte's letters called _interminable hours _with dressmakers and florists. 

Rather than the hotel, which had no proximity to Charlotte now, Sidney was a guest of the Babingtons at Sanditon Hall. There, he was at least distracted by the infant Nathaniel, who provided him with a glimpse of a life he dreamt of for himself for the first time he could recall. 

Had he _ever _dreamt of children with Eliza? He had been too young to think in any kind of detail. Now, he looked at Nathaniel and saw the promise of his own children.

Babington was at least the kinder of his two close friends and did not mock him too badly when he found Sidney rocking the boy back and forth to ease his cries.

'We are,' he said simply, setting a kindly hand upon Sidney's shoulder, 'the most fortunate of undeserving men, are we not?'

Sidney did not trust his voice, not to waver, so he simply nodded.

*


	22. Eyes Front

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short... but it wasn't going to happen otherwise. TIME I NEED MORE TIME IN MY DAYS.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the lovely feedback and comments so far. Hopefully wrapping this one up in a chapter or so.

The Sidney Parker-Charlotte Heywood wedding took place on a sunny Saturday in September. The church was crowded with friends and family - Charlotte's entire family were delivered to town thanks to Lady Susan's generosity - while Sanditon's other residents and guests lined the street to wish them well.

A dinner party two nights before the wedding notwithstanding, Sidney and Charlotte were kept completely apart by their well-meaning loved ones until the moment they met in church.

It was not  _ Sidney's _ fault that they had been seen on the dunes in an embrace a little  _ too _ ardent when they first returned to town. It was not  _ Charlotte's  _ fault that she tore her skirt in what had become known as  _ the farmer's gate incident. _

It was hardly their fault that their chaperones were neither quick-witted or swift-paced enough to keep up with them.

Then again, he had found no more effective chaperones than Henry Parker or the youngest Heywood children. Unlike in Willingden, where they had been distracted by their own lives, the youngest Heywoods had made fast friends with their new cousins - they had all made it their life's work to keep Sidney and Charlotte apart. The Parkers would later discover that the children found this absolutely side-splitting.

So it was that, by the time he stood in church, Sidney's patience was well and truly at an end.

'Are you well?' Babington asked, sweeping a piece of lint from Sidney's shoulder. 'You look rather pale, old man.'

'I did not sleep well. Nor,' Sidney admitted with a rueful smile, 'have I eaten a thing.'

Babington sighed and turned a glance over at Crowe. 'Do not faint, man! We will never let you hear the end of it.'

'Not ever,' Crowe confirmed. His hand hovered to grab at his hip-flask, but to his credit, he abstained for now.

'I will not.' Sidney pulled at his cuffs and glanced again at the back of the church, where the doors stayed solidly  _ closed _ . 'I have waited much too long for this day.'

'I am happy for you,' Babington replied, glancing up at Esther and Nathaniel where they sat in the Denham pew, and sending a little wave in their direction. 'I am glad. At one time, I feared you might never be happy again.'

'I knew for certain that I would not be happy.'

'Aye... I have heard from London-'

'I am not interested. Tell me later - if you must.'

'As you like.'

'I do-'

The doors opened, causing all the congregation to stand eagerly, staring backwards for a first sight of the bride.

Sidney took in none of the details once he caught first sight of her. He recalled nothing of Charlotte's dress except that it seemed to glow perfect yellow-gold (it was only  _ mostly _ so, for delicately embroidered bluebells decorated the satin). He recognised that she wore flowers in her hair but could not have told anyone what they were even if he'd been looking directly at her at the time.

She smiled at  _ everyone _ but him as she walked down the aisle with her father, and it was only as they stood beside the other that she looked at him. 

It had been two days and felt like a hundred years. Charlotte blinked away a tear or two - she was as deeply affected as he, which was oddly no consolation at all.

The marriage ceremony was brief and uninteresting - could not be otherwise compared to the feel of her hands in his; or his lips on hers; or the scratch of pen against parchment when the marriage was noted in the parish register. 

Sidney had laughed when the Babington wedding ended with the pair actually running out like the church. He did not laugh now. Nor, in fact, did he run. Why rush when had had Charlotte's arm tucked into his and she smiled so happily? Why rush?

He could think of one reason, but that could wait. Not  _ long _ , but it could wait.

Their family and friends pelted them with rice as they left the church, a tradition he did not like but gamely endured.

'Sidney?' Charlotte's voice cut through his dazed thoughts. 'Are you ready?'

'What? Oh. Yes.'

'Stopped listening to the wife already, Parker?' Crowe shouted. 'That's quick, even for you.'

'Daydreaming,' Sidney replied, impossible to embarrass for now. 'Come then, Mrs Parker.'

He handed her into the open-topped carriage - they waved at their guests as it moved away like they would not see them for months instead of the mere minutes they had before arriving at Sanditon House, where Lady Denham had insisted on hosting them.

'Are you happy?' Charlotte asked over the clatter of hooves and wheels and well-wishers calling out to them as they passed. 

'I am.' He took a deep breath and searched for sorrow within himself. It had been such a constant companion for so many years, after all. He found none. 'Obscenely happy, my beautiful Charlotte.'

He leaned in to kiss her as the carriage moved away from the town and rendered the carriage almost private on the empty road. 'Are you happy?'

'So much I think my heart might burst.'

'Don't let that happen; I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'I hope,' she said, kissing him back fiercely for a moment 'that you never find out.'

'I nearly-'

'None of that matters,' she replied, actually pressing her finger to his mouth to shush him, which was hard to do while he refused to let go of her hand. 'None of it. Look where we are, Sidney. We are married and we will be so happy that everyone will get heartily sick of us and we'll have to live in a cottage far from anyone else.'

'That sounds most appealing. Let's leave now.'

'Sidney!'

'Very well. Half an hour.'

'Mr Parker.'

'An hour?'

'What will they think of us if we leave early?'

'They'll think I'm an ill-mannered beast and you, my unwitting victim. I will reconcile myself to it somehow.'

'An hour and a half.'

'A deal, Mrs Parker. Unwitting victim, my foot.'

She blushed outrageously, still embarrassed and a little shameful for how far they had already gone.

'Well fancy that,' he said. 'I just realised that I can have my wicked way with you now and people will congratulate me. I find marriage much to my liking so far.'

'So,' she said. 'Do I. Mr Bellamy!'

The driver turned. 'Yes, Mrs Parker?'

'Please don't feel you have to get to Sanditon House on time.'

'I reckon the turning's easy to miss, Mrs Parker.'

'Good man, Bellamy!' Sidney called. 'Eyes front.'

'Yes, sir.'

*


	23. Eventually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe one more chapter after this one? I'm not sure... sorry for the delay but I hope you like this little slice.
> 
> And yeah, having an actual happy ever is a bit nice, isn't it?
> 
> ETA: I've edited this a bit since I posted it this afternoon when I realised that it was a bit crap and the tail end of the final sentence is missing.

The Parkers arrived - eventually - at Sanditon House just in time to greet their guests. Their hosts had outdone themselves for decorations, although if it was a _little_ less extravagant than it had been for the Babington-Denham nuptials, nobody said so and neither married pair cared a single solitary fig.

The late summer flowers were in full bloom and the house shone from top to bottom. The gilt fixtures and fittings in the ballroom glinted in the sunlight streaming through the long windows, and servants in immaculate uniforms served rich food and fine wine.

A string quartet had been engaged all the way from London and played the finest renditions of light airs, merry jigs and some of the latest opera and other finer musical works.

Sidney and Charlotte - The _Parkers_ \- took up a position just inside the front entrance, out of the sun, and started to greet each guest in turn.

Lady Susan was first amongst them and embraced Charlotte warmly. 'I am beyond words at how delighted I am for you, dear Charlotte. Except, that is, to say that the best woman won.'

'In the end.'

'No, this is not the end, my dear. Just the beginning.' Lady Susan's gaze darted to Sidney's face, and her eyes glittered with mirth as her fingers reached down to deftly retie one of Charlotte's ribbons. 'As I think you may already know... a little?'

'Just a little.' Charlotte blushed, which caught Sidney's attention.

He took her offered hand. 'Lady Susan, we are honoured-'

'Rubbish! I am here because I adore your wife, Mr Parker. You will come to stay with me at Witley soon?'

'You will be our first stop upon our return,' Sidney promised.

'Return?' Charlotte asked and watched him wince.

'Ah. It was supposed to be a surprise.'

'Yes?'

'We are... if you wish it... to travel to Italy. And beyond, if you want it.'

'Sidney! How lovely- but Georgiana-'

'She will come with us. If you want-'

'I do! Oh!' Quite overcome, she rolled onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which even on their wedding day, earned a few tuts of disapproval from witnesses. Arthur Parker, however, let loose a cheer so loud, affectionate and hearty that a few harder hearts softened a little.

Lady Susan just smiled as a woman of experience, with no real cares or concerns in the world, who can, therefore, indulge the most romantic of her inclinations.

Even as they greeted their other guests, Charlotte's mind fixed onto their travels.

'When are we to travel?' she asked at the moment between letting a guest pass by and another arrive.

'Whenever you like. Perhaps soon, before the weather turns and makes sea travel unpleasant.'

'Oh, yes! And have you spoken to Georgiana about it yet?'

'I wanted to surprise you first.'

'You did surprise me! We must ask her today. Oh, I hope she will... I do... that is... I want so much for her to be our family, Sidney. She is, surely?'

It was a measure of how much Sidney Parker had improved, how much he had returned to the open-hearted young man he'd been before Eliza, that he nodded - with some trepidation. 'If she'll have me.'

Georgiana approached not long after that and leapt at Charlotte. 'You are so beautiful, Charlotte! What a beautiful wedding, even if you did marry _Sidney_.'

Yet, for all the sharp words, there was no real fire in her insult. She paused by Sidney. 'If you hurt my dear Charlotte again, I will cut you open and pull out your entrails while you watch, and decorate the Assembly Halls with them.'

He hardly even blinked: 'If I hurt _my _beloved Charlotte again, I will hand you the knife.'

Georgiana found this an acceptable answer. 'You are not so awful.'

'Georgiana, Sidney has some wonderful news! We are to travel to Italy and perhaps even beyond!'

Georgiana scowled. 'I am very happy for you.'

'Oh, no! You misunderstand. _We, _in this case, includes _you_. If you would like to.'

Several fat tears fell from Georgiana's eyes. 'Yes, I would.'

'When we return,' Sidney said. 'You are... will you want to live with us? You can keep your separate household-'

He was cut off by her firm embrace. 'Yes.'

Sidney returned the hug. 'That is the answer we hoped for.'

'I mean,' Georgiana resumed her more usual cynical attitude, if only in pantomime thereof. 'Only if you will be your best self and not that horrible, miserable Sidney you've been this past year.'

'You have been back in Sanditon these last few weeks,' Charlotte said. 'You have seen him.'

'Yes, but I assumed that was because of you.'

'It is,' Sidney replied. 'Why do you think I married her?'

'Because she is beautiful and kind and nobody else would have a wreck like you?'

'I cannot argue with any of that,' he said. 'Now, I think you must go because people are getting restless.'

Georgiana hugged Charlotte again and skipped into the ballroom where she ran to share her news with Arthur. Charlotte watched, quite inattentive to other guests, as Arthur whooped with joy once more and they bounced up and down in glee several times before running off towards the refreshments.

'You are a kind man, Sidney Parker,' Charlotte murmured to him.

'Don't tell anyone.'

'Wouldn't dream of it.'

*

The celebrations went on in a blur of congratulations, handshakes and sweets until Charlotte could barely think. Her family were on their best behaviour around the great and the good who had travelled to attend.

She danced once with Sidney but otherwise did not have a chance to speak to him - or even catch more than a glimpse - for several hours. Thank God, she thought with some private amusement, that they had taken a wrong turn, otherwise, she might be feeling driven absolutely to distraction now.

'Charlotte dear,' She spun on her heels to face her mother, who looked very well in a green dress she had made herself. Her father was surely somewhere nearby - sure enough, she heard him directing the little ones to mind themselves in company. She turned, however, to her mother, who deserved some attention of her own. 'Do you need anything?'

Charlotte grasped her mother's hands and squeezed affectionately. 'Oh, no! I think I have everything I could ever wish for!'

'That may be true,' Mrs Heywood replied, eyebrow arched. 'But perhaps a glass of something to drink. You look very warm.'

'It is very warm in here.'

'Yes, I suppose it is. And where is Mr Parker?'

'Being congratulated at length by a number of his London acquaintances.'

'I do hope he does not overindulge,' Mrs Heywood said, as if discussing the weather. 'That sort of impairment on a wedding night is most inconvenient.'

Charlotte spluttered, glad she did not presently have a drink at her lips. 'Mother!'

'Yes?'

'You cannot speak of such things!'

Mrs Heywood blinked, holding Charlotte's mortified gaze with her own steady one. 'Why not?'

'Because it is not _done_.'

'No, Charlotte,' her mother patted her hand. 'it is not done in front of _unmarried ladies_. Do not look so askance at me, dear girl. I am teasing, but you will find conversations take some very different turns for you now.'

'I do not wish,' Charlotte said, aware of how _missish_ she sounded, 'to discuss such matters with anyone. Least of all my own mother. It was excruciating enough yesterday.'

Her mother had been obliged to explain marital matters to her the night before, and some of the more excruciating moments came from Charlotte's attempts to pretend to know less than she did. She was a well-read young woman and she had been fondly acquainted with Sidney Parker for some time, after all.

'Oh dear, sweet Charlotte. I do not suppose you have very much to worry about with your Mr Sidney Parker, but you must have someone in whom you can confide. Not a mother, not about these things I suppose, but a friend.'

Charlotte glanced over at Lady Susan and thought of the special friend _she_ kept somehow entranced. 'It will be quite all right, Mother. You have no cause to worry.'

'No, not any more. The last few weeks have been quite another matter. Still, it is done now and anything you might have-'

'Mother!' Mrs Heywood's inference was clear and Charlotte was outraged on her own behalf, even as she protested a little too much.

'If he had not already proposed to you before I met him, I would have run Sidney Parker out of town for looking at you the way he did.' Then, Mrs Parker smiled. 'All is now well.'

'Yes, it is.' Charlotte sighed and tried to catch sight of Sidney. 'Where is he?'

'Do not stand on ceremony with me - go and find him.'

Charlotte kissed her mother's cheek. 'Thank you.'

Sidney was nowhere to find immediately: not in the ballroom, the dining room, the card room or the library. She stepped out onto the terrace - the late afternoon air had the inklings of a chill about it. Various children ran around, free from scoldings outside. Her brother Arthur dashed past

There, on the lawn sprawled on his back with his cravat undone, Sidney Parker lay staring up at the sun flanked by Mr Crowe and Lord Babington. They were laughing about something.

'You look like three naughty little boys,' she said.

Sidney sprang up like he'd been shot; Babington came up to rest on his elbows and Crowe barely even looked up.

'If you two have induced _my husband _to get become quite completely foxed, know that my vengeance will be swift and enduring.'

'I am not drunk,' Sidney protested. He stood on - mostly - steady legs. 'They might be; I am not.'

He reached out to take her hand. 'They have been teasing me, Mrs Parker.'

'I must protest, for that is surely my responsibility.'

He grinned; her heart _clenched _almost painfully with various shades of love. 'Your vocation, perhaps.'

'True. For what were they teasing you, Mr Parker?'

He blushed a little. 'Matters upon which it is not good form to speak in polite society.'

Charlotte sighed. Was that on _everyone's _mind? Good grief. 'But you _will_ tell me?'

'Eventually.' This was given as the warmest kind of promise, with a glance that made her insides burn.

Remembering their promise to leave after an hour and a half, which they had been obliged to abandon, she returned it. 'I am an impatient woman, Mr Parker.'

'I am aware. We have been here quite long enough, don't you think?'

'I do.'

While they had been talking, Lord Babington stood and brushed grass from his breeches. He was drunker than Sidney but not nearly so much as Mr Crowe. He grasped her hand and shook it firmly, before remembering himself and kissing the back of it instead. 'Mrs Parker, I am exceedingly happy for you both. We speak in jest, but I am sincere when I say I wish you both much, long-lasting joy.'

'You are very kind, and an excellent host. Thank you - and Esther and her Ladyship, of course.'

Babington grinned. 'Sidney told us he ruined your surprise.'

'It may not be a surprise but it is not ruined. I can hardly wait.'

'We will miss you while you are away. So will little Nat.'

They exchanged a few more words of warmth and joy before Sidney tugged on her arm. 'Shall we make ready to leave?'

'Yes, please.'

It was with much continued joviality that the Parkers made their farewells and received knowing whoops and cheers in return.'

They were reunited with the discreet services of Mr Bellamy to take them away to the old Parker house for the night. He bid them a friendly farewell until the morning and then - and then - the Parkers were truly alone for the first time. Even when they'd sought Georgiana they'd had a driver. 

'Well,' said Charlotte. 'Whatever shall we do now?'

'I have some thoughts on the matter,' Sidney replied, dry as a desert. 'Perhaps we ought to go inside and I will share them with you.'

She grinned, half-wickedly, half-bashful. She knew other ladies who had walked into their wedding night terrified and she was enormously pleased to feel quite the opposite. 'I am so glad I married a clever man.'

*


	24. La Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... it is done. I didn't want to leave it exactly where it was for any number of reasons, but mostly because I'm a cynical sort and don't believe it could quite so easily won.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who read this since I started it back in October. This isn't really my fandom - I wrote it more to see how it *might* be resolved than anything. The response I got was really heartening and I thank everyone who commented, who took the time to read. And yanno, I've been doing this fanfic lark for a while and this is the first time I ever had something sit at the top of the 'most read' list for a little while.
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy this last little bit. No matter how long it takes, I do finish stories.

_ Some Time Later... _

London was a city full of wonder and horror: a place where the very best and very worst of humanity rubbed shoulders, did deals with the devil and prayed to the Lord, where enormous mansions and notorious rookeries competed for space along the broad, winding Thames.

In the fashionable salons of the well-to-do, there was an unusual quiet in the shenanigans of the upper classes. The royal family was behaving itself (if only by its own poor standards) and a lull in births, marriages and deaths created a void. There was nothing that the alleged-great and good liked less than a gossip vacuum.

And so it was that the return of Eliza Campion to London, some months after her broken engagement, caused whispers. Those who had been at the Regatta Ball were happy to give their reports - even if they'd been nowhere near the incident itself - and those who were not happily listened.

Eliza Campion was wealthy, but it did not follow that she was well-liked or especially influential. This was not entirely her own fault. The Late Mr Campion had been the sort to remain at his estate even during the Season; he was more content to be wealthy than politically powerful. He had also been sharply aware of his wife's youth and beauty, and he had no intention of putting her in the way of cads, rakes or rogues, so her social circle had been much more limited than her young self had expected.

So it was that everyone knew who Eliza Campion was and how much she was worth, but they knew very little of the woman herself. She had built up little goodwill from the likes of Lady Jersey or the other Almacks ladies that she could call upon when she returned to London.

That said, many women and not a few men were quite happy to listen to her tale of woe and mistreatment at the hands of Sidney Parker.

Sidney Parker's reputation was not the most shining, and he was not there to defend himself.

Nobody actually knew where Parker was. He'd been a notable face around Town for some - as any handsome, wealthy and unmarried man will be - but he had not been seen at his club or the theatre. He was not at the Gold Cup at Ascot, nor on Rotten Row. Nor was he seen in Sanditon as rumours swirled. It took longer for the news of his marriage to Charlotte Heywood to reach London than it had for the gossip to make it to the south coast in the first place.

And so, London had its entertainment, complete with a dastardly villain. He was no Byron, of course (whoever was, except that particular, extraordinary, notorious person himself?) but the damage to his reputation was not small.

It might be believed, then, that Mrs Campion had whatever revenge she was surely seeking when she passed on her tale of woe to so many people.

However, what is believed by society and what is real are not always the same thing.

*

_ Florence, Italy _

It was a warm day, but the Palazzo Vitelli's shutters and stones kept the residents cool. On the street beneath, Florentine folk went about their everyday business in a constant din of cart and wagon wheels on the stones; of shouted mirth, joy and irritation. At regular intervals, the air rang out with the sound of church bells.

The residents in this particular palazzo had no interest in the goings-on outside.

Sidney Parker had been awake long enough to almost dress, take fresh coffee and the just-delivered post to the courtyard, and sit on the balcony to drink and read.

_ Dear Sidney, _

_ Dearest brother, I hope my letter finds you well. I cannot say I have good news pertaining to the recent topics of conversation in London. _

_ Few speak in your favour, although it may be of some comfort that few people speak _ against _ you. _

_ Lord Babington has nearly ended up in a duel while defending your good name, but as most of the talk is amongst the ladies of the ton rather than the gentlemen, he has not been much called upon, though you have a loyal friend in that particular gentleman. _

_ The more promising news I bear is that nobody speaks poorly of dear Charlotte, not least because she has such a firm supporter and friend in Lady Susan, who has done what she can to counteract the lies being told. _

_ Tom was terribly angry at first, but once he realised that the gossip did not harm his intentions for Sanditon. Mary was worried about how this might affect the children, but I am sure all will be well, but they do miss you dreadfully. Diana wishes you well and asks if the warmer climate in Florence is as healthful as it is said. _

_ For myself, I am resolved to a quiet life and have been firmly instructed by the good Dr Fuchs to eat only one portion of buttered toast each morning instead of two. I suppose he knows what he is about, but it is dashed hard sometimes. _

_ I wish I could be the bearer of better news, but perhaps you do not mind the situation in which you find yourself so much as the vicious gossips would wish? _

_ Do write to me as soon as you can, for life here is dreadfully dull without you. _

_ Your loving brother, _

_ Arthur _

Sidney left the letter on the table and took a breath, wondering what he truly felt about it all.

Very little. He and Charlotte and Georgiana were already on their way to Florence by the time Eliza returned to London. Sidney had for many years made professions of apathy regarding society's opinion of him, only to realise that it was not true until Charlotte Heywood was his wife and nothing else mattered.

He thought about the effect his reputation might have on his children but, as they were still theoretical concepts at present rather than living, breathing people, it mattered little.

His only concern was for Charlotte, but as she cared even less and was not slow to make her feelings known, he did not worry too much about that either.

All in all, as he was the most fortunate man in the world, he found he had no capacity to give even the slightest care to what others thought.

They had not intended to stay in Florence long, but both Charlotte and Georgiana were charmed by the city's beauty. There were a number of English people living in Florence, and they lacked - or seemed to lack - the hypocrisy of outward morals and private debauchery that so characterised the London society that chose to judge him.

It was possible they would not stay - there was Rome to visit, and Naples, and Venice - but Sidney knew he was in no rush to return to drab London. London, with its bad memories and judgemental people, its bad weather and worse food.

'Sidney?' Charlotte was in the doorway, yawning. 'Why didn't you wake me?'

'You were sleeping.'

'Well, of _course_ I was sleeping, how else could you wake me?'

'You needed the sleep.'

'I wanted to be up early today so we could walk to-'

'You will wear yourself out, my love.' He raised an eyebrow. 'And that's my job.'

'Sidney Parker!'

'Not a job, more a vocation, you're quite right.'

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak but was distracted by the letter. 'Who wrote?'

'Arthur.'

Charlotte took a seat to read and to drink Sidney's coffee. 'Oh, well.'

'What are you thinking?'

'I think that I lived 22 perfectly happy years without any of those people, and I shall live another one hundred before I care about what any of them say.' She put the letter down. 'Where is Georgiana?'

'The gallery. She wanted to draw.'

'Ah. I am glad she has found something to care about.'

'I am also glad that it means she is out of the house for a good portion of the day without me having to worry she has been carted off somewhere.'

'Sidney!'

'I jest Mrs Parker. But, I defy you to deny that her new hobby has its advantages for _us_.'

'Mr Parker,' Charlotte sat up very straight, his coffee cup in her hand. 'I cannot possibly imagine what you mean.'

He plucked the coffee cup from her hands and set it down with extreme care upon its saucer. Then, in almost one swift movement, he got to his feet, scooped her into his arms and strode inside.

*

A few streets away in the great gallery of the Uffizi, Georgiana Lambe was, quite unexpectedly, the happiest she had ever been as she sat drawing, using the great works around her to copy by way of learning. She did, however, wonder when it might be safe to return home.


End file.
